


Tell Me How To Feel About You Now

by justyrae



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Non-Famous, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Ass Play, Bottom Louis, Breaking Up & Making Up, Dirty Talk, Drunk Blow Jobs, Drunken Kissing, Friends to Lovers, Hand Jobs, M/M, Miscommunication, Nipple Play, Phone Sex, Pining, Rimming, Shower Sex, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-14
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-12-14 19:53:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 38,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11790294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/justyrae/pseuds/justyrae
Summary: Louis thought it would feel different once he got to LA. He knew it was best for him; a fresh start as far away as he could get. But when the plane touched down and he stepped out into the hot air around LAX, Louis felt exactly the same.There's still a hole in his chest where his heart used to be; ripped away even after trying for so many years to keep it from happening. He knows it's not all his fault, not by a mile, but it doesn't stop him from blaming himself for it all going wrong.If he'd just stayed strong, if he'd said no when he said yes, maybe everything would be different.Or, Harry has been trying to convince Louis to date him for years, but Louis has always been wary of Harry’s fairly obvious commitment issues. Louis eventually gives him a chance, opening his heart up to the one thing he fears.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [starprediction](https://archiveofourown.org/users/starprediction/gifts).



> HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALLY!!!!!!!!
> 
> this fic is the bane of my fuckin existence but it's HERE and it's DONE and ally better love it or i'm gonna punch her.  
> two months ago she told me what her dream fic would be like and i apparently offered to write it for her bday so HERE WE ARE. she's literally sitting next to me as i type out this note so probably everything i've tagged is her fault.
> 
> anyway, the biggest of super big awesome hugs to [dearmrsawyer](http://dearmrsawyer.tumblr.com) and [akai-coat](http://akai-coat.tumblr.com) for alwaysalwaysalways being willing to talk fic with me and without the two of them i probably wouldn't have gotten this fic finished on time. love you guys!!  
> also another big hug to [cabbernay](http://cabbernay.tumblr.com) for making the BEAUTIFUL edit used in the tumblr post and down below :D love it and love you!!
> 
> title from "Tell Me How" by Paramore

_ you keep me up with your silence _

_ take me down with your quiet _

_ of all the weapons you fight with _

_ your silence is the most violent _

 

_ _

 

**_i can't call you a stranger, but i can't call you_ **

Louis thought it would feel different once he got to LA. He knew it was best for him; a fresh start as far away as he could get. But when the plane touched down and he stepped out into the hot air around LAX, Louis felt exactly the same.

There's still a hole in his chest where his heart used to be; ripped away even after trying for so many years to keep it from happening. He knows it's not all his fault, not by a mile, but it doesn't stop him from blaming himself for it all going wrong.

If he'd just stayed strong, if he'd said no when he said yes, maybe everything would be different.

It _is_ all different now, though. Louis has a new apartment in a different country, thousands of miles away from everyone and everything he's ever known. Even his belongings feel unfamiliar to him, stuffed inside of his suitcases or wrapped up in boxed that he'd sent ahead. If Liam hadn't come with him to help get him settled, Louis probably wouldn't unpack properly for another few weeks.

Still, when it's time for Liam to fly back home to London, Louis is still waiting to feel something.

"You should just stay," Louis says miserably, shuffling his feet in a slow manner as Liam's putting in a request for an Uber. "Who lives in London, anyway?"

"I do," Liam replies with a laugh. "So does Niall, and--"

"Don't," Louis says. "Don't say his--"

"I wasn't going to," Liam says, his voice soft. "'M not that thick."

"I know, I just…" Louis huffs. "This was supposed to make everything better. Why isn't it better yet?"

"It takes time, Lou." Liam offers a smile. "It'll get better, you'll see."

"Yeah," Louis mumbles. "I made the right decision, after all, didn't I?"

Liam comes over and wraps Louis up in a tight hug. Louis clings to him and takes a deep breath, shutting his eyes and willing himself not to start crying. Liam holds him as long as he needs, but even all the time in the world isn't enough to fix what's broken inside of Louis. Liam could never fix it, regardless. It's not his problem to fix.

"You've got my new number, right?" Louis asks as he steps back out of Liam's arms.

"Yeah," Liam says dutifully. He'd gone with Louis to get a new phone, and Louis had watched as Liam programmed his new number into his phone. He just doesn't want to be forgotten.

"You can give it to Niall, too. Just not--"

"I know," Liam says. He doesn't say his name and Louis is glad he didn't have to either. It's going to be hard enough for Liam and Niall, Louis knows that. They've all been friends for so long that Louis doesn't even remember what life was like before he met them all. It was one of the reasons why he knew he had to leave, even if it was going to be the hardest thing he's ever done. He just couldn't stay.

"Take care of yourself, alright, Tommo?" Liam claps him on the shoulder. "Try not to do anything stupid."

"Liam." Louis scoffs. "Please. I never do anything stupid."

Liam laughs and Louis cracks a smile; it's almost enough to make him forget Liam's leaving. He doesn't know when he'll see his best mate again, and judging by the look on Liam's face when their eyes meet, he's thinking the same thing.

"C'mere," Louis says as he pulls Liam into another hug. "Let me know when your flight gets in," he murmurs.

"Will do." Liam hugs him tightly, so close that Louis feels it when Liam's phone starts buzzing. "Shit, that'll be the Uber…"

"Go on," Louis says, laughing a little to mask that he feels like crying. "Don't miss your flight."

"I'll see you," Liam says, squeezing Louis' arm. "I'll come visit again, I promise."

"You'd better!" Louis calls as Liam slings his bag over his shoulder and heads out the door, waving as he goes.

There's a sinking feeling in the pit of Louis' stomach that he's not going to see Liam again. He pushes it down as best he can, but his throat closes up all the same and he takes a shaky breath.

"Alright," he mutters to himself as he shuts the door and turns back to look at his apartment. It's sparsely furnished at best, but Louis doesn't care. Once his job starts, he'll only spend a minimal amount of time here anyway.

Still, looking around at all the empty space makes the hole in Louis' chest feel impossibly bigger.

He grabs his keys and leaves as quickly as he can, deciding that there's no time like the present to explore his new neighborhood. He ends up finding a park not too far from his apartment complex, and he ends up staying there so long that he watches the sun set. He takes a picture of the red-orange sky and posts it to Instagram, taking a while to come up with what he wants the caption to be.

He decides on _the sun goes down and it comes back up_ , and closes the app as soon as the photo loads. He doesn't yet trust himself not to go clicking around in search of a profile he should know better than to look at. It's not going to change anything, and besides, it's not like he'd even care. The damage is already done, and Louis knows that.

If Harry had really cared, none of this would have happened.

Louis inhales sharply as he unlocks his phone and goes to his contacts. _It's time_ , he thinks. He hadn't told Liam that he'd kept Harry's number, he was too ashamed to admit it. But if this was going to be a fresh start, then Louis has to be all in. He has to delete Harry's number once and for all.

He stares long and hard at the numbers under Harry's name before he finally does it, thinking that maybe this will be the final thing he needs to do in order for things to change and start being better.

A few minutes pass, and everything still feels the same. Louis is still heartbroken.


	2. Chapter One

Three Years Earlier

_**i guess it's good to get it off my chest** _

Louis is drunk. He's possibly more drunk than he's ever been in all his years at university combined, and it's all Niall's fault. He should have known better than to go drink for drink with an Irishman, especially with Liam in his ear telling him it was a terrible idea. But, he's barely listened to Liam's warnings in the last three years, and he's certainly not about to start now.

The thing is, he's been under a table for at least half an hour now, and he's not exactly sure how he got here. It's not really a concern, though, considering he's got a stash of beer next to him and he's still riding the high of finishing his exams.

Louis grins to himself and cracks open a new can of beer, clinking it against his half-drunk one in a toast to himself. Liam was totally wrong. Getting drunk with Niall was the best idea Louis has ever had.

His stomach swoops a little when he thinks about how this is the last time he'll be getting drunk with Niall or any of the boys for a year, and maybe even longer than that. He's been told half a dozen times that their time in Paris could be extended, but for the moment it's set to last a year.

Louis sighs as he closes his eyes and takes another drink. He wants this, he knows he does. He'd been obscenely lucky to get this job in the first place, he can't give it up now.

He hears the sound of a pair of feet coming to a stop in front of him and Louis opens his eyes, cocking his head to the side so he can look at them properly. He recognizes those shoes. He's a moment away from trying to reach out and touch them - even though his hands are both full, given he's double-fisting cans of beer - when the person the feet belong to suddenly drops down under the table and grins at Louis.

"Harry!" Louis crows happily, sloshing beer all over himself and the floor when he throws his arms open.

"Been looking for you," Harry says as he crawls under the table beside Louis, clumsily knocking into both Louis and the table legs before he can situate himself properly.

"You found me," Louis says after he takes a long sip from one of the cans he's holding. Harry's grin doesn't fade one bit as he leans on one elbow and gestures to the beer in Louis' other hand.

"That for me?"

"What, this?" Louis says, right before he licks all around the opening of the can. "Nope, it's mine."

Harry tries to pout, but he's just grinning too much to do it properly. He reaches out and pokes Louis in his side, shouting a little when Louis jerks and spills even more beer.

"Not fair," Harry moans. "You've got two and I haven't even got one."

"Not my fault, Harold." Louis takes another drink. "Should've thought of that before."

"Or you could share," Harry whines, reaching again for Louis' beer.

"No!" Louis shouts as he tries to twist out of Harry's reach. This only spurs Harry on further, until Louis is flat on his back and Harry's half on top of him. Louis can feel the beer he spilled earlier seeping into the back of his shirt, but he still won't let Harry take away either one of his beers.

"C'mon, Lou!"

"No! They're mine!"

"C'mon," Harry says as he starts tickling Louis' sides. "Be a pal, c'mon!"

"Go get your own!" Louis says as he thrashes around in his attempts to get Harry to stop tickling him.

"But I want yours," Harry whines, catching Louis just right between his ribs so that Louis ends up dropping one of his cans and it crashes to the floor with a clatter and a splash before it rolls out from under the table.

"You--" Louis gasps, taking swift revenge as he dumps the rest of his other beer on Harry's head.

"Louis!" Harry shouts as his hair is drenched and he shakes his head, whipping Louis in the face with his wet curls as he does so.

"You little--" Louis mutters as he pushes Harry off of him and onto his back, quickly pinning him down and climbing on top of him to stare down at him with a look of triumph. He leans back and gives Harry a smug smile as Harry pushes his hair away from his face.

The look on Harry's face is the only warning Louis gets before Harry's flipped them again and Louis lands on his back, this time with Harry holding his wrists down against the sticky floor.

"Ha," he says, even more smug than Louis had been a moment ago. "Pinned you."

Louis closes his eyes and groans, but before he can properly take the piss out of Harry for that awful line, Harry's attention is diverted.

"Hey," he says accusingly. Louis opens his eyes and realizes that Harry's finally spotted his stash of beer. "You've been holding out on me!"

"You didn't ask," Louis says with a sniff.

"I did too!"

"You wanted one of the ones I was holding," Louis replies haughtily, "and those were _mine_."

"You're such a shit," Harry mutters, rolling his eyes as he grabs a beer and rolls off of Louis. For a moment, Louis just stares at Harry with an incredulous look. When Harry doesn't react, Louis scoffs loudly and grabs the box of remaining beers before he crawls out from under the table.

As soon as he's standing up on both feet, he nearly runs directly into Liam.

"Louis! There you are!" Liam gives him a once-over and frowns. "What happened to you?"

"Nothing," Louis says as he takes a beer out of the box he's holding. He fully intends on goading Liam into shotgunning one with him, but before he can say a word, Harry comes crawling out from under the table and knocks into him before he drapes himself across Louis' back.

"You left me under the table," he whines.

"Piss off, Harold."

"What were you two doing under the table?" Liam asks.

"Well," Louis starts, intending to explain that he got there first and Harry is a dirty, rotten freeloader, but Liam quickly stops him.

"Never mind, I don't actually want to know."

Liam turns around and heads away in the direction from whence he'd come, leaving Louis alone apart from one Harry Styles still clinging to his back. Louis tries to shove him off, only succeeding when he actually turns around to face Harry.

"You're disgusting," he says, cracking open his new beer as he looks at the disheveled mess atop Harry's head. Harry frowns as he reaches up to touch his hair, immediately grimacing when he feels what the beer's done to it.

"It's your fault," he replies. Louis squawks.

"Is not!"

"Yes, it is!"

"You're the one who tried to steal my beer," Louis says, cradling the box close to his chest as he glares at Harry. "Thief."

"Pretty sure I paid for that beer," Harry says, gesturing to the box Louis is holding. Louis' smile falters for a moment. "So, really, looks like you're the thief here."

"Fine," Louis says with a huff. "But I claimed it, so it's mine now. Besides, you've got one, haven't you?"

"Lou…" Harry sighs, closing his eyes. He's still smiling, even though he's clearly a bit put out. Louis can't help but grin.

"Finders keepers, Harold."

"Alright, alright." Harry huffs. "The least you could do is come help me get cleaned up."

"What am I, your servant boy?"

"No," Harry says, laughing helplessly at the thought. "You're my best friend who wants to help me not be covered in beer _you_ poured on me."

Louis huffs and rolls his eyes. "Fine. But I'm bringing the beer."

Harry shakes his head fondly. "I wouldn't expect anything less," he says as he half-turns and starts heading towards his room, Louis close behind.

Most of the partygoers keep to either the kitchen or the living room, but Louis would be lying if he said he wasn't mildly disappointed not to catch anyone in Harry's room. He starts towards Niall's door, just to satisfy his own curiosity, but Harry catches him around his waist and pulls him back before he can reach it.

"Oh, no." Harry chuckles. "Niall's room is off-limits to the likes of you."

"Oh? And just what do you mean by that?" Louis asks, jabbing Harry in the chest and frowning when his finger pokes a wet spot on Harry's shirt.

He frowns and turns away, walking over to Harry's bed and sitting down. He sets the box of beer down on the floor and when he looks up again, Harry's closed the door and stripped off his shirt already. Louis whistles loudly and mimes throwing money at him when Harry turns his head towards him. Harry flushes as he grabs a towel and starts wiping his arms down, while Louis shifts on the bed and makes himself comfortable. He lays down, propping himself up on his elbow so he can continue drinking his beer as Harry cleans himself off.

"What happened to…" Louis trails off as he tries to remember the name he'd had on the tip of his tongue a moment ago, "whatshisname?"

"Who?" Harry asks and Louis huffs against the beer can pressed into his bottom lip.

"You know," he says, drawing out the syllables, "the one you were shagging."

"Brian?" Harry says, laughing. "We weren't shagging, Lou, it was one time."

Louis rolls his eyes. "Yeah, just like it was one time with the girl from your writing seminar, and the guy at the cafe, and--" Louis gasps, "I nearly forgot the _twins_ from last year that--"

"Shut up," Harry says loudly with a groan. "They were different!" Louis narrows his eyes as Harry pauses. "Alright, the twins were a whole other story, but--"

Louis laughs loudly, cutting Harry off as he tries to explain himself. He eventually gives up and Louis grins into his beer. He loves being the one to put Harry in his place.

"You packed?" Harry asks casually, changing the subject entirely. Louis chokes mid-sip and coughs after he's swallowed, wiping at his mouth as Harry snickers.

"Almost," he answers with a sheepish laugh, glancing down at his beer so he doesn't have to look Harry in the eyes when he knows Louis is lying.

"Almost as in almost done, or almost talked Liam into doing it for you?"

Louis grins. "He's going to do it, just you wait and see."

"Louis," Harry says with a fond laugh. "You leave the day after tomorrow."

"I know," Louis replies. "Liam's really slacking. Can't believe he's here when he's got all that work to do."

"So irresponsible," Harry agrees.

"Right? It's a wonder he made it through uni at all, he's always leaving things til the last minute."

"Clearly it was thanks to you," Harry says as he starts walking towards Louis. "Seeing as how you're so organized and all."

"Watch it, Harold." Louis points an accusatory finger at him. "Them's fighting words."

"Is that right?" Harry grins as he reaches for Louis' beer. Contrary to what he just said, Louis doesn't put up a fight and lets Harry take it from him, setting the can down on the floor next to the box. "Louis," he says, a slight sing-song tone to his voice.

"Harry," Louis replies, mimicking Harry's tone. "What?"

"Your shirt is filthy," he says. "Take it off if you're gonna lie down on my bed."

"So picky," Louis replies with a huff as he sits up, but there's a glint in his eyes that he knows Harry spots immediately. Louis slides further up onto the bed and starts grinning.

"Louis," Harry warns.

"So I shouldn't do this?" Louis says as he falls onto his back and starts rolling around on Harry's pillows. Harry immediately climbs onto the bed and tries to get him to stop while reaching for the hem of Louis' shirt, but neither attempt goes well with how much Louis is thrashing around.

"Stop, Lou!" Harry says, but he's laughing so hard that it isn't much of an order at all.

"Make me!" Louis replies, challenging him. Harry reaches for Louis' shirt again and Louis slaps his hands, but it doesn't deter Harry as much as he thought it would. It turns into a scuffle in nothing flat, the two of them laughing as they wrestle around.

There's a noticeable shift when Louis ends up pinned down against the bed with Harry holding his wrists down as he straddles Louis' waist. Harry's got a triumphant smile on his face and try as he might, Louis can't pull his wrists free.

"Ha," Harry whispers, slightly out of breath. "Pinned you again."

"God," Louis groans. "That was--"

Harry leans down and presses his mouth to Louis', stopping him mid-sentence. Louis lets out a little moan of surprise against Harry's mouth; he didn't expect this to happen. If he were in his right mind, this wouldn't be happening. But given that he's probably drunk half the alcohol supply at this party, Louis lets it happen. He kisses Harry back.

His head feels like it's spinning and he knows deep down that he shouldn't be doing this, but he can't make himself stop. All he can think about is how Harry feels against him, how their lips fit together, and how good he tastes despite the cheap beer they've both been drinking all night.

"Louis," Harry gasps as he pulls away. "Louis--"

Louis opens his eyes and Harry goes silent, just staring down at him with a look that Louis has never seen before.

"What?" he asks. Harry lets go of his wrists and sits up.

"I…" Harry licks his lips and Louis' eyes are immediately drawn to his mouth. "You're leaving."

"Yeah," Louis says. "I'm leaving."

"Should we…" Harry swallows. "Should we stop?"

Louis takes a breath and closes his eyes. He should say yes, he should tell Harry that this is a terrible idea, that they're _best friends_ and nothing more. Christ, he's never even thought about kissing Harry before it happened, but now all he wants is to pull Harry back down and kiss him again.

"Do you want to?" he ends up asking.

"No," Harry admits. Louis can't help the breath of relief that escapes.

"Then don't," he says as he leans up and presses his mouth against Harry's again.

"But--" Harry gasps. "You're leaving."

"I'm leaving one way or another," Louis says with a frustrated groan as he collapses back down onto the bed. "That's not gonna change, Haz."

"Right, yeah." Harry laughs nervously. Louis blinks and is about to ask Harry if he's alright, the look on Harry's face is still one he's never seen before, but the moment Harry leans down and starts kissing him again, every other thought goes out of Louis' head.

Louis groans into the kiss and puts his hands on Harry's hip, pressing his fingertips into Harry's soft skin. Louis is overwhelmed by his senses and his head spins ever faster; the alcohol in his system combining with his sudden arousal and making it difficult for Louis to do much of anything. If Harry notices, he draws no attention to it, given the way he starts pulling at Louis' shirt again.

Louis lets him take it off, hardly having a moment to breathe before Harry kisses him again. They both moan when Harry stretches out and their hips connect, both of them feeling each other's arousal through their clothing. Harry starts grinding against him and Louis grips Harry's hips even tighter, urging him on further as they keep kissing. Louis tugs on Harry's trousers, feeling a bit frantic as he tries to get his hands down them. They're far too tight to allow Louis to get as far as he's trying to, and Louis makes a noise of frustration against Harry's mouth.

As if to answer Louis' wordless plea, Harry pulls away from his mouth and starts kissing down Louis' neck, making his way down to Louis' chest with teasing kisses that Louis writhe underneath him. Harry pays special attention to Louis' nipples, licking and sucking until Louis feels like he's going to scream. His jeans have never felt tighter than they do right in this moment, and he actually sobs in relief when Harry presses the palm of his hand against the zipper of his jeans and starts rubbing him roughly.

"Jesus," Louis moans brokenly as he rocks his hips up into Harry's touch. "Harry…"

Harry doesn't say anything but he moans into Louis' skin and tugs at the button on Louis' jeans as he continues kissing his way down Louis' belly. Louis can't control his breathing any more than he can control his limbs, his hands having fallen from Harry's hips when Harry put his mouth on Louis' nipples.

His breath catches when Harry manages to pull his jeans open with one hand, immediately starting to mouth at Louis' cock before he even tries to pull it out of Louis' pants.

"Fuck," Louis grunts, and Harry takes that as a pass to keep going. He looks up once he pulls Louis' cock free from his pants, licking his lips when their eyes meet. Louis has every intention of keeping his eyes on Harry, but the moment Harry puts his mouth on Louis' cock, Louis' head falls back onto the bed and he groans loudly.

The sounds Louis makes only spur Harry on further and he puts both of his hands on Louis' hips, digging his fingers into the softness of his flesh as he moans around Louis' cock.

"Harry," Louis gasps, thrashing around underneath him until Harry forces him to be still. Louis' hands immediately find their way into Harry's hair, twisting and pulling as Louis loses control. His breathing is erratic and his hips jerk under Harry's tight grip; Louis knows his orgasm is fast approaching.

Harry pulls off, quickly wrapping his hand around Louis' cock and wanking him as fast as he's able. Louis pulls Harry up so he can kiss him, shoving his tongue into Harry's mouth as he nears ever closer to his orgasm.

"C'mon," Harry grunts when Louis breaks away just as he starts to come. Harry's lips find a particularly sensitive spot to bite and suck as Louis comes all over Harry's hand and his own stomach.

Louis finds Harry's mouth again once he's finished, kissing him even though he can hardly breathe. He drops one hand to Harry's trousers, clawing at the zipper until he can fit his hand inside. Harry tries to help by shoving his trousers and pants down, but he gets immediately distracted when Louis' hand touches his bare cock and he leaves his trousers bunched around his thighs. He buries his face against Louis' neck, his mouth finding that same sweet spot as Louis wanks him off, murmuring encouragement while Harry's hips jerk.

It's not long at all until Harry's coming too, his moans muffled against Louis' skin. They're both still for a moment, Louis with his hand around Harry and Harry with his face hidden in Louis' neck, but the sense of urgency they'd felt moments ago has passed.

Louis takes his hand back as Harry rolls off of him, the both of them catching their breath in an otherwise silent room. Louis' head starts to clear, the haze of desire passing with every breath he takes, and soon it sinks in what's just happened.

He turns his head slightly, just enough that he can see Harry out of the corner of his eye. Harry's eyes are closed but there's a look of bliss on his face that makes Louis quickly turn away. _It hasn't hit him yet_ , Louis thinks to himself, _but it will_. He's sure Harry knows as well as Louis does, that this was a mistake.

Louis shuts his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. It doesn't have to be awkward, they can both just brush this off as a drunken tumble and forget all about it. They're best friends, they should be able to just laugh it off and move on. Only… Louis sure as hell doesn't feel like laughing.

More minutes pass in complete silence as Louis waits for Harry to say something, all the while stewing in his own thoughts. He feels strangely sober and can't help but wish that he'd never gotten drunk at all. He's leaving in a few days, he shouldn't have let something like this happen.

Louis takes a deep breath and tells himself that it's up to him to start the conversation. He doesn't want to, not even a little, but they can't just lie here forever. The words are on the tip of his tongue, ready to be said, but when he turns to look at Harry he realizes something: Harry's fallen asleep.

Louis curses under his breath before slowly easing himself up and off of the bed, grimacing at the mess on his stomach and hand. He finds the towel Harry discarded earlier and uses it to clean himself off before he tucks himself back into his jeans and zips them up while he looks around for his shirt. After he's found it and pulled it back on, Louis glances back at Harry, who's still sleeping soundly.

Louis sighs softly and bends down to pick up the towel again, folding it so his mess is on the inside before he carefully lays it across Harry's waist, covering him to the barest minimum. Louis can't bring himself to look at Harry's face once he's finished, he just turns away and leaves the room, telling himself that the talk can wait til the morning.

It's not until he rejoins the party and Liam finds him that he realizes he's got an enormous love bite on his neck.

"Jesus," Liam says as he jabs at it, laughing when Louis winces and bats his hand away. "Who'd you get off with, then?"

"I don't kiss and tell, Liam," Louis says, avoiding the subject entirely. Liam rolls his eyes.

"Since when? Couldn't have been anybody all that important, what with you leaving soon. C'mon."

Louis stays quiet, trying to play it off like he's being coy as he downs half the drink in his hand. He can't tell Liam. He's already afraid he's ruined his friendship with Harry; telling Liam would only be one step closer to having it be true.


	3. Chapter Two

One Year Later

**_just starting something new again_ **

**_i'm getting sick of the beginnings_ **

Louis had expected his trip home to London to be bittersweet. He'd grown accustomed to living in Paris over the last year, and with that came a relationship that he hadn't planned on. Louis felt like he'd spent the whole week leading up to this day saying goodbye to Julien, but it hadn't felt real until they'd kissed goodbye just a few minutes ago.

"It won't be long," Julien had reminded him in a sweet, gentle tone as he stroked Louis' cheek. "I'll see you in a few weeks."

Of course, Louis had agreed then. Now, twenty minutes into his train ride back to London, a few weeks seemed ages away. He'd seen Julien nearly every day since they started seeing each other, and now he was going to have to go _weeks_ without even seeing his face.

Louis exhales sharply as he knocks his head against the window, staring out at the world passing by. His phone buzzes and he quickly reaches for it, hoping for but not expecting a text from Julien that says "miss you already," or something equally embarrassing. His heart sinks a little when he sees a notification from Liam instead, replying to Louis' text that he was on the train heading back to London.

_**cant wait 2 c u!!!** _

Louis smiles nevertheless, because as upsetting as it is to be leaving Julien behind, he's excited to see Liam again. It's been a full year since he's seen him, since he's seen anyone from home, and who knows what's happened in the year he's been gone.

Before Louis can compose a reply, another text comes through.

_**havin a party 4 u 2nite!! gettin all the lads back 2getherrrr** _

Louis huffs out a laugh, covering his mouth quickly so he doesn't disturb anyone else in the compartment, and shakes his head. He hasn't been to a proper party since he left London. If it's anything like the going-away party that Liam and the lads threw for him, then Louis is in for a massive hangover.

By the time he's sent a reply to Liam, telling him that they're all in for a hell of a night, Louis' mind has reminded him of someone he spent the first few months in Paris trying to forget: Harry.

Louis had spent the day after the going-away party expecting Harry to call, text, or just show up at his flat demanding an explanation as to why Louis had left him alone that night. Louis got on the train to Paris the following day wondering if Harry was going to just show up one day, and had constantly looked over his shoulder for days after. But Harry never showed up, he never called, and he never texted.

As strange as the radio silence from Harry was, Louis never made an effort to reach out. He'd told himself that it was better this way; that to cut ties would be easier for both of them in the long run, to save them both from the awkward conversation that obviously neither of them wanted to have.

Still, it didn't stave off Louis' curiosity for those first few months.

He couldn't help himself. He wondered if Harry had told anyone else. Every time Louis got a text from Liam or Niall, he would wonder if this was it: if they were finally going to confront him about what they'd done. But those texts never came, and Louis always assumed that it was because Harry never told them.

But, it's not like what they'd done had been any different than what Harry had done with a dozen other people all through university. All three of them had watched him go from one person to another, never sticking with anyone long enough to call it a proper relationship. It's strange to think of himself being another one of Harry's conquests, especially given that they'd been friends for so long. Louis' stomach twists uncomfortably as he wonders whether their friendship had just been a cover; what if Harry had only been trying to get into Louis' pants this whole time, and after he did, there was no reason for them to be friends anymore?

Louis shakes that idea out of his head, telling himself that it couldn't be true. That's not the Harry he knows, that's not his best friend. Still, that doesn't make Louis feel any better about the situation as a whole. There has to be some reason why he and Harry haven't spoke in over a year, something better than Louis' fear of talking about what had happened.

And now, as the minutes tick by as Louis sits on his train, he can't help but start to wonder again: will Harry even come to this party? If he does, what will happen?

He spends the rest of the train ride coming up with wild scenarios in his mind, most of which end with shouting matches in front of all of their friends that leave Louis absolutely terrified. But… surely Harry couldn't have spent this last year with an immeasurable amount of pent up rage towards him, could he?

By the time the train pulls into St Pancras, Louis has mostly convinced himself that Harry wouldn't spend a year plotting revenge against him. He reasons that the Harry he knows, the Harry he went to uni with, didn't have an evil bone in his body.

 _Although_ , a snide voice in the back of his mind said, _you didn't expect the Harry you knew to go ghost on you, either_.

Louis tells that voice to shut up, swings his bag over his shoulder, and falls into line behind the rest of the people getting off the train. He concentrates on putting one foot in front of the other and trying not to get frustrated when the people ahead of him take longer than necessary to walk in a straight line.

By the time he's collected his luggage and joins the roaring crowd bustling around the station, Louis is eager to find Liam and get the hell out of there. The bag on his shoulder suddenly feels like it weighs far more than it did when he packed it this morning, the strap digging into his flesh and the pain sinks down deep enough that he feels it in his bones.

It's an overwhelming relief when he finally spots Liam and makes a beeline towards him, and all of Louis' pain and frustration melts away when they make eye contact and Liam grins widely. His arms open widely, welcoming Louis in with a tight hug as soon as he's close enough.

Louis closes his eyes as he hugs Liam back, having only one thought on his mind: _it's been too long_. Judging by the look on Liam's face, he's thinking the same thing.

"Good to have you back, Tommo," he says.

"Good to be back, Payno." Louis grins. "C'mon, let's get out of here."

"Might take a while," Liam answers sheepishly, "home's a bit far."

"Yeah, well," Louis says with a sigh, "sooner we get there, the better."

Liam was right, Louis quickly finds out, that the trip from St Pancras to their new flat is rather long, but Liam is determined to distract Louis for the entirety of it by filling him in on everything that's gone on since he's been away.

"The tests were mad," Liam says, having explained all the rigorous stages of recruitment he'd been going through to become part of the police force for the city of London. "Like, I thought for sure I'd fail the numerical ability one."

"I knew you'd get in," Louis says, slinging his arm around Liam's shoulder. "I dunno why you waited so long to apply, or why you stuck it out at uni. You could've been moving up the ranks all this time, Li."

"Don't start that again," he replies, rubbing his face and shaking Louis' arm off. "You know my mum wanted me to go to uni."

"I know, I know." Louis rolls his eyes. "Can't disappoint Karen, now, can we?"

"You joke," Liam says as Louis starts to laugh, "but you know that's absolutely true. My mum never would've forgiven me for quitting. What if I hadn't gotten accepted by--"

"But you did," Louis interrupts smoothly, "and someday I wager you'll be protecting the Queen."

"Nah, that's… like," Liam hums, "that's different, innit?"

"I dunno, you're the policeman, shouldn't you know?"

Liam shrugs. "Must be part of the training later on."

Louis rolls his eyes again. "Anyway, what about Nialler? Is he still a bum?"

"Niall's gone legit," Liam says with a bit of a laugh. "Proper posh businessman, he is."

"What?" Louis laughs. "Last I knew he was still looking for work," Louis pauses, trying to remember the last time he had a full conversation with Niall. He's a bit ashamed when he realizes it's been several weeks, and he clears his throat. "What's he doing, then?"

"Working for an architectural firm downtown," Liam says, pride seeping into his voice that makes Louis grin even more widely. "Has to wear a suit and everything," Liam adds, now starting to giggle again, "he hates that, but he loves the job."

"Oh god," Louis says, snickering right along with Liam, "can't wait to take the piss out of him for that."

"Be careful," Liam warns, "posh or not, he can still drink us all under the bloody table."

"I would've been offended if he'd lost that, if I'm honest."

"Believe me, he hasn't." Liam's shaking with the force of his laughter now, and it seems like it's getting harder for him to speak the longer it goes on.

Louis listens to Liam explain the night they went out to celebrate Niall's new job, and somehow a simple pub night ended up with Niall leading the entire pub in a rousing rendition of some song Liam swears he'd never heard in his life, but just about everyone else in the pub had either known it or joined in anyway with gibberish. Louis can picture it vividly in his mind, because it sounds like something Niall would be able to manage, and he wishes he'd been there to see it.

"Harry ended up under the table," Liam adds, still laughing, "he couldn't keep it together and just fell off his chair."

Louis' chest tightens at the mention of his name, but Liam's so caught up in the mirth of the memory that he doesn't notice it at all. Louis waits until Liam's calmed down and then, in the calmest and most casual voice he can muster, he asks the question he's been wondering all along.

"What's Harry been up to?" He scratches the back of his neck and avoids Liam's eye. "Haven't heard from him in a while."

"He's good," Liam answers, not picking up on the awkward edge to Louis' voice. "Really good, like, he's been playing pubs all over the city. Getting pretty good, I reckon, since he's played the same ones a fair number of times."

"That's good," Louis replies, his voice going flat.

"Yeah, he seems to enjoy it. Me and Niall try to go to as many as we can, y'know." Liam smiles proudly. "Show him support, and all that."

"S'pose I'll have to start going too," Louis says, nervously fidgeting with the zipper on his bag. "Now that I'm back, and all."

"Oh, yeah, definitely! He's got loads of new songs, y'know. He's really--"

Liam continues on, but his voice fades into the noise on the tube and Louis retreats into the caverns of his own mind. There's a selfish part of him that wants to ask Liam more questions, dig deeper into what's kept Harry so busy that he didn't even try to talk to Louis for an entire year. He desperately wants to know if any of the new songs Liam mentioned are about him.

But… surely they can't be, right? If they were, then Liam and Niall would've picked up on it and told him, wouldn't they?

Louis takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, willing all these thoughts and worries to get pushed out along with it. He doesn't need to get worked up over all this, because there's nothing to get worked up over. It was just one night.

"Hey," Liam says, snapping Louis out of his thoughts, "how's Julien? Was it, y'know, hard? Saying goodbye?"

Louis laughs a little at Liam's tactless question, but he answers it good-naturedly because without knowing it, Liam's managed to remind Louis that he has someone important in his life already. He doesn't need to think about Harry.

*

The party is a roaring success. It's hard to believe that so many people managed to fit inside their flat, and Louis would be lying if he said he wasn't surprised that he'd had this many people miss him while he was gone. He hardly walks two steps all night without someone saying it's good to have him back or that they missed him terribly.

There's just one person that Louis doesn't see, and he spends half the night trying to figure out if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

Every time he finds Liam amongst the crowd of people, a question forms on the tip of his tongue, but he never asks it. Liam doesn't seem to be looking for Harry, and Louis reasons that he shouldn't be looking for him either.

Niall shows up almost two hours after the party started, still in his work suit, but within a couple of minutes he's double-fisting drinks with one arm wrapped around Louis' neck.

"Just like old times!" he crows loudly, drinking half of the beer in his right hand in one go. Louis laughs, narrowly avoiding having Niall's other drink spilled down his front.

"Missed you, Nialler," Louis replies over the din of the party.

Soon after, Louis gets roped into taking part in a drinking game with Niall and several other people. Liam stays out of it, like he always does, but he sticks around to make sure nobody ends up with alcohol poisoning. His girlfriend, Sophia, does the same, although Louis has a feeling that they'll be disappearing from the party before it's over.

The night makes Louis feel like they're all back in university, and somehow that feels like it happened over a decade ago instead of just over a year. The more he thinks about it, and the more alcohol he consumes, the more he starts to feel Harry's absence as a hole inside himself.

He pushes it down, refusing to bring it up and ruin the party, but he can't deny that it's still there.

It only gets worse as the party starts to die down and Louis begins to sober up. As their flat empties, Louis finds fewer people to distract himself with, until Niall's the only one left. Liam and Sophia having long since retired to Liam's room, Louis is left with the task of either getting Niall out the door and into a taxi or clearing the couch of debris so Niall can stay the night.

"Nah, 'm fine," Niall insists as he leans heavily on the door. "I can get home, promise."

"Mate, you're ten seconds away from passing out," Louis says with a gentle laugh as he coaxes Niall back to the couch. "Stay the night, already."

"Yeah, yeah," Niall says with a deep sigh, his eyes already half-closed as he collapses onto the couch. "Wake me up when there's bacon," he mumbles, falling asleep within seconds.

Louis shakes his head and chuckles under his breath. He lays a blanket down over Niall before he starts tidying up the room as quietly as he can. He manages to squeeze all of the party rubbish into two bags and drags them downstairs, setting them out for the morning pickup.

It's late, the street is quiet, and Louis knows he should be going to bed. He's exhausted from the long day, but his mind is still wide awake. Louis sits down on the steps and pulls a cigarette out of the pack in his pocket, reminding himself all the while that he's supposed to be quitting.

He leans back against the steps, closing his eyes as he takes the first drag of his cigarette. He hears footsteps on the sidewalk as he's exhaling, but he doesn't open his eyes. He suspects that it's just someone passing by, probably trying to get home after a night similar to the one Louis' has had.

But then the footsteps stop, and out of sheer curiosity Louis opens his eyes, hardly believing who he sees standing in front of him.

Maybe it's because Louis is sitting down, but he could swear that Harry got taller in the last year. He hardly recognizes him at all; his hair's gotten longer and his face seems sharper than it was. But when Louis looks into Harry's eyes, there's no mistaking it.

He's staring at Louis like he can't believe it either.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi," Louis replies. They both stare at each other for a few seconds, neither one making a move nor a sound.

"You're back," Harry says, his voice sounding strange. Almost as if he was trying to sound happy about it, but back-pedaled at the last moment.

"I'm back," Louis replies, taking another drag off his cigarette.

This is what Louis didn't expect. He thought that either Harry would avoid him or he'd shout at him; he didn't know how to handle it being _this_ awkward.

"Liam invited me to…" Harry gestures towards the door behind Louis, but drops his hand just as quickly as he'd lifted it. "I wasn't sure if I should come."

"Bit late, now." Louis clears his throat. "Everyone's gone home, apart from Niall, he's passed out on the couch."

"That's not…" Harry sighs softly and Louis looks away, down at his feet. He knows that's not what Harry meant, but are they really going to have this conversation here and now?

"It was a good party," Louis says, as though they're making casual conversation; as though he's not actively avoiding looking Harry in the eye now.

"I didn't know if you'd want me there," Harry says. Louis closes his eyes and wills him to stop talking. "We haven't talked in--" Harry cuts himself off and sighs heavily. "You just left, Louis."

"You knew I was leaving," Louis replies. "That wasn't going to change, Harry. I told you that."

"Yeah, but I didn't think you'd leave without even saying goodbye."

"You didn't say it either," Louis answers quietly.

"I was pissed at you," Harry says, his voice rising. "You just left me, you didn't even--" Harry sighs angrily, and out of the corner of his eye Louis sees him run his hand through his hair. "It was like I didn't even matter, like we weren't even friends anymore."

"I was leaving, Harry," Louis tells him, keeping his voice as calm and level as he can manage. "We shouldn't have… I shouldn't have let that happen." He looks up at Harry. "It was a mistake, we were both drunk. I was _leaving_."

"Stop using that as an excuse," Harry says. "You knew what we were doing, same as I did. You can't sit there and tell me you didn't want it."

"Harry--"

"Tell me," he repeats.

"I didn't," Louis says, but his voice breaks and he can't say the rest. Harry sits down next to him and Louis instinctively moves over, sucking on his cigarette that's half-ash now.

"I would've waited for you," Harry tells him. "I waited all through uni, I would've waited another year."

"Harry--" Louis sighs heavily as he stubs out his cigarette. "I don't know what you want me to say. You can't just _say_ shit like that."

"Why not?"

Louis scoffs out a laugh. "Because it's not fair!"

"Louis--"

"No, Harry," Louis says as he gets up and rounds on him. "It's not fair and you know it. What do you mean, you waited all through uni? You never said a fucking thing! Was I supposed to just _know_ you wanted something from me while you were out fucking other people?"

"That's not--"

"That's exactly what you did, Harry! And I didn't care, because there was never anything between us until that night, so you can't blame me for what happened when you and I both knew what that was." Louis points at him. "And _you_ can't sit there and tell me that it was more because you didn't fucking say anything."

"But you were leaving," Harry says, getting to his feet. "And you left me--"

Louis barks out a laugh, interrupting Harry. "You cannot keep turning that around on me, Harry. Yes, okay, I left you that night. Are you happy now? I _left_ you."

"Louis--"

"No, if you're going to keep bringing it up, then you obviously want me to say I'm sorry for it. So here you go: I'm sorry, okay? But you…" Louis' voice wavers a little and he balls his hands into fists, trying to keep his courage intact. "You knew I was leaving. I don't know what you thought was going to happen, but that's not my fault."

Harry stares at him for a while, but doesn't say anything right away. Louis sits back down on the steps with a deep sigh, pulling out another cigarette to calm himself down. The longer Harry goes without talking, the more Louis starts to wonder if he should've just gone back inside.

Eventually, Harry sits down beside him and lets out a long sigh. Louis doesn't turn his head, but he watches Harry out of the corner of his eye, moving only to lift the cigarette up to his mouth.

"I didn't know what to say," Harry begins, running his hand through his hair again. "I didn't know what to say through uni, I didn't know what to say a year ago, I…" He sighs heavily. "I barely know what to say right now."

"Jesus," Louis breathes out. "Look, Harry--"

"I should've said something," Harry interrupts. "I know that. I spent the last year wishing I'd said something earlier." He huffs softly. "But now you're back, so…"

"Harry," Louis says gently. He turns to look at him and it nearly breaks his heart to see Harry looking so hopeful. "Harry, I'm seeing someone."

Harry's face falls so fast that Louis is almost certain that he'll collapse. He turns away from Louis, who nearly reaches out to touch him. Louis thinks better of it and concentrates on finishing his cigarette instead.

 _Need to fucking quit_ , he thinks to himself.

"Do you love him?" Harry asks without turning around.

Louis puts his head in his hands and sighs deeply. It's a question he should've expected, but it doesn't mean that he knows how to answer it.

He hasn't said those words to Julien, they've only been officially dating for a few months. It's really none of Harry's business at all, but Louis can't help but feel like he owes him an answer, even though he knows he can't give Harry the answer he's looking for.

"It doesn't matter," Louis murmurs.

"It matters to me," Harry replies.

"It's not going to change anything," Louis tells him. "Just like that night didn't change me leaving in the first place. I'm not trying to hurt you, Harry, I'm not."

"Is that why you didn't call me, either? Because you weren't trying to hurt me?"

"Jesus, Harry." Louis laughs hollowly. "Do you think I had any idea what to say to you, either? I thought I'd lost my best friend, and after a while I didn't think there was a single thing I could say to fix it."

"I'm sorry," Harry says quietly. "I guess… in trying not to lose you, I pushed you away, didn't I?"

Louis laughs, a softer and fonder sound this time. "I'm sorry, too. We both sort of fucked up, didn't we?"

Harry laughs and turns back to face Louis. "Guess so."

"Could we, like," Louis sighs, "start over?"

"I, umm…" Harry hums. "I want to say yes."

"But?"

"But…" Harry sighs. "I can't change how I feel about you, y'know."

Louis swallows hard. "I know."

"But," Harry says again, laughing a little, "I also miss my best friend."

"I missed you too." Louis smiles at him. "I think, maybe, it could be like it was. As long as…" he trails off for a moment, unsure of how to convey what he's thinking without having it come out wrong. After a few seconds, Louis decides it's best to just leave it unsaid and adds, "well, it's up to you."

Harry stays silent for a few minutes, and then cracks a smile.

"Rather have you as a friend than not at all."


	4. Chapter Three

Six Months Later

_**you know i got my own convictions** _

_**and they're stronger than any addiction** _

Louis doesn't really know what to say when Liam asks him if he's okay. He's been expecting the question for days now, ever since he had his last shouting match with Julien over the phone, but it doesn't mean he'd actually figured out how to answer it. He should probably say no, because that's what Liam is probably expecting. That's what anyone would expect when they ask that question of someone who just broke up with their boyfriend.

But Louis doesn't know what to say. He can't decide if he's okay.

On the one hand, he's upset. He'd cared about Julien a lot; he'd been considering telling Julien that he loved him. It seemed right, given that they were nearing closer to their one year anniversary, but it also seemed like something he should do in person instead of over the phone.

And that was the problem, Louis supposes: they hadn't seen each other face to face in months. Julien was always asking when Louis was going to move back to Paris, always telling him that he couldn't be taking trips to London every other weekend. Louis had tried to do his fair share of the traveling, but it was hard when he couldn't take time off from his job.

"It's not fair," Julien would say. "I'm always coming to see you, Louis. It's not fair. Just ask them for a week off."

"I can't," Louis would reply. "You know that."

It wasn't a lie _per se_ , but it was true that Louis had never really asked for time off. It'd been different in Paris, obviously, because he'd been able to see Julien every night once he was finished with his teaching duties. The nights and weekends had always been free for Louis to do anything he liked, and Louis couldn't help but think that asking for anything else would be too much. His employers were counting on him to give their children the best education money could buy, he couldn't let them down.

"Anyone could do it," Julien had said. "It's not like you're the only private tutor in the world."

That was the first strike, in Louis' mind. He'd hung up on Julien without another word, too angry to be able to say anything back. Louis knows full well that he isn't the only private tutor in the world; he knows he's not even the best private tutor in _London_. But he takes his job seriously, and he has a relationship with his students that he values very highly.

If he's being honest, Louis couldn't help but feel like Julien wasn't just insulting his job, but he was actually insulting Louis.

It didn't get better from there, and now four days later, Louis is sitting on the couch in silence in the flat when Liam comes home from work. He offers a haphazard greeting to Liam when he comes in, and it doesn't take long at all for Liam to come over and sit down next to him.

"Are you okay?" Liam asks carefully.

A few minutes go by before Louis lifts one shoulder in a shrug, still unable to come up with a clear answer in his head. Liam nods, like he knows this is the best he'll get, and changes the subject.

"D'you want to go out tonight? Could go down to the pub for a bit, if you wanted."

Louis opens his mouth to decline, to make up some excuse about how he's tired and doesn't want to go out, he'd rather just sit here and stew in his misery all night. But something changes at the last second, and Louis ends up saying yes instead.

"Yeah?" Liam repeats, his voice growing excited. "I'll call up Niall and Harry too, yeah? Make a proper lads' night out of it."

Even though Louis didn't mean to say yes, now that it's out there he can't take it back. He knows Liam's just trying to help him feel better. He nods and offers Liam a smile as he stands up from the couch, but as soon as Liam's back has turned it disappears.

Louis had hoped he wouldn't have to tell Harry about his breakup for a while longer. If possible, he would've tried to get away with not ever telling Harry that he broke up with Julien. For all the talking they did about starting over and going back to being friends, they haven't yet mastered it. Every time they're together, Louis catches Harry giving him these looks that Louis can't identify but make his insides go all twisty until he forces himself to look away. He doesn't know what Harry's going to do when he finds out that Louis doesn't have a boyfriend anymore.

Whatever it is, Louis has a feeling it's not going to be subtle.

He and Liam are at the pub within an hour, and Louis has polished off two pints before Niall and Harry even show up. Liam keeps up with him drink for drink, and although there's a slight glint of worry in his eyes, he doesn't say a word. Louis appreciates it, because there's no way he'd be able to handle an overly-worried Liam on top of everything else on his mind.

Louis is halfway through his third pint when Niall and Harry come through the pub door. Niall bounds over and takes the empty spot next to Louis, wrapping his arm around Louis' shoulder and giving him a good-natured jostle while Harry sits down next to Liam on the other side of the booth.

"So," Niall says, smiling broadly, "what's the occasion?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Louis sees Liam watching him warily. Louis takes this to mean that Liam didn't actually tell them about Louis and Julien, which loosens the knot in Louis' stomach just a little.

"We're celebrating," he says as he swirls his glass around, watching the foam slide across the surface with ease. He keeps his eyes fixed on it rather than looking around at his friends, choosing to close them when he brings the glass up to his lips to take a long sip.

"Excellent," Niall says, rubbing his hands together. "Love a good celebration."

"What're we celebrating?" Harry asks. Louis' eyes flicker up to his, regretting it immediately. Harry's eyes seem to bore into his own, and Louis quickly looks away in the hopes that Harry won't see right through him.

"Lad's night," Liam says, the words coming out a little jerky. Louis winces, but turns it into a smile when Liam gives him an uncertain look. "Louis and I thought it'd be good to start a tradition?"

Louis nods feverishly as he drinks the rest of his pint, purposefully staring down at the table instead of making eye contact with anyone sitting around it. Niall laughs, clapping his hands together before he drums them against the table, apparently perfectly accepting of this as a reason.

"Alright! Another round?" Niall says, staring pointedly at Louis' empty glass as he sets it down on the table.

"On you?" Liam says with a laugh, picking up his own half-drunk glass from the table as he nods towards the bar. "Let's go."

Harry slides out of the booth to let Liam out, sitting back down a moment later as Niall and Liam set off to get the next round. Louis exhales deeply, glancing around the pub instead of looking at Harry. He doesn't have to look to know that Harry's looking at him.

Louis' head turns when he hears the squeak of the booth's cushion and suddenly Harry's sitting right next to him. Louis goes completely still as Harry looks at him, his eyebrows narrowed like he's in the middle of solving some complex mystery.

"What?" Louis asks after a while. He's getting impatient as the seconds tick by without Harry saying a word.

"You alright?" Harry asks.

"Peachy," Louis replies with a smirk. He wants Liam and Niall to come back _now_ ; he needs a buffer. "And yourself?"

"Lou," Harry murmurs. It's loud enough in the pub that Harry's voice should've been drowned out, but Harry's too close for Louis not to have heard him.

"What?" Louis repeats in a sharper tone.

"You're not alright," Harry says. "You're acting weird."

" _You're_ acting weird," Louis mocks. "It's been a long week, I just wanted to get drunk with my friends, is that alright with you, Harry?"

Harry sighs as he slides back to the other side of the booth, just in time for Niall and Liam to come back with a round of drinks.

The next few hours pass in a haze of alcohol and laughter, with a few pointed looks from Harry aimed at Louis. He tries not to acknowledge them; Louis knows Harry's trying to figure him out, and he's going to do his damnedest not to let Harry figure out a fucking thing.

It's none of Harry's business, anyway.

Louis excuses himself from the booth after Harry's gone to the bar for another round, what'll inevitably be Louis' seventh drink. He can't remember if Liam's still keeping up with him drink for drink, but it doesn't really matter. Louis is drunk enough that he feels warm and fuzzy all over, and it's a bit tough to put one foot in front of the other.

He stands up under the pretense of going to the toilet, but he soon finds himself outside behind the pub. In warmer weather, there would be people out there already, sitting around tables with drinks of their own. Now that it's turned cold, nobody comes out here except if they need a smoke.

Louis pats his pockets down for his pack of cigarettes, but comes up empty. He's left them in his jacket, he realizes, which he draped over the back of the booth. He hadn't planned on coming out for a smoke, so he hadn't grabbed it.

"Good one, Tommo," he mumbles to himself. He finds his phone, though, and he pulls it from his pocket even though there's a faint voice in his head telling him this is a terrible idea.

It's not long before there's a ringing in his ear and Louis is pressed up against the wall, waiting for Julien to answer the phone.

He doesn't, in the end. Louis didn't really expect him to.

"I dunno why I'm calling you," he says with a bit of a laugh. "I don't want to talk to you. You're just… you're there, aren't you? And I'm here. And that's the problem." Louis laughs again. "But not anymore. No problem. No relationship, no problem!"

Louis groans as he pulls the phone away from his ear and taps at the screen until he hangs up the phone. He's already regretting leaving the message when he turns around and runs into something warm and solid.

He looks up and curses loudly. It's Harry.

"What're you doing out here?" Louis demands.

"I could ask you the same question," Harry replies with a low scoff.

Louis groans and shoves his phone into his back pocket before crossing his arms. He's starting to get cold, and Harry's blocking the door.

"I was looking for the toilet."

"Outside?"

"No," Louis snaps. "I dunno how I got out here."

Harry sighs and puts his hand on Louis' arm, tugging him towards the door. Louis goes along with him until they're back inside and then he pulls his arm free.

"I could've done that myself," he says. "You were in the way."

"Lou."

Louis had started to walk away, but he pauses when Harry says his name. He presses a hand against the wall to steady himself and closes his eyes, willing Harry to drop the subject before it even begins.

"I, umm," Harry sighs, "I heard."

Louis sighs heavily. "Of course you did."

He spins around, his shoulder knocking against the wall before he can steady himself. Harry takes a step forward like he's going to try and catch him, but Louis slaps his hands away.

"Louis," he says pleadingly, "why won't you let me help you?"

"I don't _need_ your help," Louis says as he pats the wall. "I'm fine right here, Harry. And I didn't ask you to follow me, so why are you here?"

"Liam sent me when you didn't come back from the toilet," Harry explains. "We wondered where you'd gone off to."

"Well, you found me. Now let's go back." Louis turns again, keeping one hand pressed against the wall so he won't fall over. Harry's quicker than he is, appearing in front of him in a flash, and Louis glares at him.

"So it's true, then?" he asks quietly. "You and Julien, you--"

"Broke up," Louis says flatly. "Happy, now? Can we go back?"

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because I didn't want to tell you! I didn't want you to know, because I didn't want this." Louis gestures between them. "Alright?"

"I wish you'd told me," Harry says.

"Why? So you could swoop in and save me like some fucking white knight? What would you do, take me out and tell me that you'd treat me right, that you'd never ask me to give up my job--"

"I wouldn't," Harry interrupts, but it doesn't stop Louis.

"It doesn't _matter_ , Harry. None of it matters, alright?"

"Louis--"

"I don't want you," Louis tells him. "What I want, you can't give me."

"I could," Harry replies, but it's weak to Louis' ears. He shakes his head and pushes past Harry, stumbling back to the booth where Niall and Liam are waiting.

"There you are!" Niall crows. Louis forces a laugh as he collapses next to Liam.

"What, did you get lost?" Liam asks, jostling Louis' shoulder.

Louis glances briefly at Harry as he slides in on Niall's other side and doesn't make eye contact.

"Something like that," Louis replies.

*

Louis has just finished fixing his fringe when he hears the door open, and he curses under his breath. Liam wasn't supposed to be home yet, Louis was sure of it.

"Louis?" Liam calls, and Louis curses again.

He doesn't answer. He glances at the window on the other side of his room and seriously considers climbing out of it in lieu of having to use the front door. He's been successfully avoiding Liam for the last few days, and he's not above sneaking out to keep up the streak.

Liam calls out Louis' name again and Louis winces. Liam sounds a bit discouraged and Louis knows that he should just come out and admit that he's home, but he's more preoccupied about the conversation that could follow. He knows Liam's worried about him; he knows Liam wants to talk about his behavior lately, but Louis doesn't want to talk. He's talked enough, he just wants to let go.

With one final deep breath, Louis heads for the window and opens it. He's thankful that their flat is on the first floor and it's not a long drop to the ground below. After tugging the window back down so it's closed, Louis climbs out of the shrubbery below his window and brushes himself off. A couple passing by give him an odd look, but he pays them no mind.

He can handle looking a little shifty if it gets him out of a conversation with Liam.

As hard as he tries not to dwell on it, Louis can't stop wondering what Liam was planning on saying to him. Things haven't exactly been all sunshine and rainbows since Louis broke up with Julien, Louis knows that better than anyone, but he doesn't think his behavior as of late is grounds for an intervention. Louis isn't a drunk, he's not a drug-user, he's just having a bit of fun.

It's easier to take his mind off of things once he's inside the club, lost in the middle of a crowd. Louis lets himself relax and shake off all his worries and cares for the next few hours. None of it has to matter right now, not when all he's looking for is a chance to forget.

Louis and Julien haven't spoken in weeks, which Louis has only just recently begun to be okay with. It's strange how even though he was the one to break it off, he'd been harboring a secret hope that Julien would be the one to initiate a reconciliation.

After the drunken voicemail he left for Julien, Louis was sure he'd at least get a text in response. But when there was nothing from Julien the next day, or the day after that, Louis started to lose hope about everything involving his relationship with Julien. He'd already been sinking into the mindset that Julien wasn't the person Louis believed him to be, and this only strengthened it.

The longer the silence went on, the more Louis started to realize that he didn't really miss Julien, he missed the intimacy that came with a long-term relationship. He'd been missing that for a while, given their distance, but he hadn't been able to do anything about it.

As a test, Louis went out to a club by himself one night and ended up snogging some random stranger for the better part of an hour. He didn't need to go home with the guy to realize what he'd been really missing.

As a result, Louis has been going out as often as he can, hooking up with whoever he damn well pleases. It's a different sort of intimacy than he's used to, but it's giving him exactly what he wants for the time being. For once, it's nice to not have to think about how anyone else feels.

Three drinks in, Louis is feeling fantastic. He's danced with a few different girls and now as he's standing near the bar he's getting stared at by a cute guy, so he's thinking that this night will go as well as he'd hoped for. Louis finishes off his drink and sends one last look towards the guy, smirking at him before he heads back towards the crowd of people on the dance floor.

The club is packed full, making it hard to move around without bumping into anyone. Louis pushes his way through the crowd until he's in the thick of it, closing his eyes and losing himself in the beat of the song blasting through the speakers all around the club. He gets knocked back a couple steps by someone passing by and he laughs, but even he can't hear his own voice over the song playing.

Louis turns around and continues dancing, grinning at the couple dancing in front of him when both of them look him up and down. He's looking at the two of them in an appraising manner when suddenly someone bumps into him from behind, grabbing at his waist with their hands to keep him from falling forward. He stumbles a little, falling back against them as he tries to stay up on his own two feet, and just barely hears a guy's voice murmur _sorry_ into his ear.

The thing is, Louis isn't even a little upset. The guy behind him is warm and solid, and Louis likes the way their hands feel on his hips. He closes his eyes again and groans a little under his breath as he presses his bum back against the guy's hips, starting to smirk when the guy reciprocates.

Louis puts one of his hands on top of the guy's over his waist, and he reaches back with the other until it brushes against the guy's neck. His fingers close around a loose collar and he feels soft curls, which make him think of the guy he'd seen at the bar. Louis can see his blonde curls and collared shirt plain as day in his head, and his smirk grows wider.

The hands on his hips tighten their grip and Louis groans again, pushing back harder against the guy behind him. He feels a harsh breath against his ear and a moment later a pair of lips on his neck, and Louis lifts his hand and twists his fingers into the guy's hair. With Louis' eyes still closed, he turns his head and next thing he knows, they're kissing.

It's exactly what Louis wanted out of the night. He turns around and presses himself against the guy, moaning into his mouth when his hands slide down from Louis' waist to his bum and squeeze. Louis rolls his hips forward and then pulls his mouth away, taking a deep breath as he opens his eyes.

The smile vanishes from his face as soon as he looks at the face of who he's been kissing. It's Harry.

Louis can't breathe. He can hardly _think_. He's staring at Harry and he honestly can't believe his eyes. How did he not know it was _him_?

"Louis--" Harry says. His voice drowned out by the noise all around them, but Louis watches his lips move before he quickly turns away and starts pushing through the crowd to get away from him.

He feels sick, he feels _betrayed_. How could Harry do that to him? Louis closes his eyes for a moment as he keeps moving through the crowd, willing himself to keep breathing and to stay as calm as he can. Maybe Harry didn't know it was him, either. Maybe it was all a misunderstanding.

Louis opens his eyes as he breaks through the throng of people and reaches open space. He presses his hand to the closest wall and breathes deeply, running his hand through his hair as he counts to ten.

Harry's at his side before he even gets to six.

"Louis," he says again, close to Louis' ear this time so he can actually hear Harry's voice, and Louis pushes him away.

He watches Harry stumble out of the corner of his eye and then makes a break for the door. He needs to get as far away from Harry as he can, as fast as humanly possible.

Once Louis exits the club, he gets maybe halfway down the block before he hears Harry's voice again, shouting his name. Louis ignores it and keeps walking faster and faster, practically running away.

Harry manages to catch up with him when Louis gets stuck at a crosswalk. He curses the traffic passing by on the road, trying to figure out if he can bypass it by ducking down a side street when Harry grabs his arm. Louis wrenches it free but Harry's quick to grab it again, holding it tight enough this time that it's not as easy for Louis to get it back.

"Louis--"

"Let go of me!" Louis shouts.

"Louis, would you stop--"

"Let go!" His screams start to attract attention, and Harry quickly lets go of his arm but he steps closer to Louis, as if that's going to make him listen.

"I didn't--" he starts, but then the light changes and Louis takes off running again.

He'd never imagined that something like this would happen, nor that it _could_ happen. All Louis wanted to do was to have a bit of fun, to get over Julien by hooking up with someone new. The last thing he wanted was to do that with Harry.

The thing is, he can already hear Harry's excuses in his head. _I didn't know it was you. I never meant to kiss you like that. You kissed me first. You're single now, what does it matter? Why don't you want me?_

"I don't have to want you!" Louis shouts, his mouth running as wild as his thoughts. He doesn't even know if Harry's still running after him, but he keeps pushing himself to go faster, to get home as soon as he can.

His lungs are on fire by the time he gets to the front door of his building, and Louis feels like he's fit to collapse on the doorstep. It's a struggle to get his keys out of his pocket and an even bigger one to try to get the door unlocked. He doesn't manage to get the door open before Harry's caught up with him again, but at least this time he doesn't try to grab Louis' arm.

"Louis," he says, panting harshly as he tries to catch his breath. "Will you just give me a second?"

"No," Louis says firmly as he jabs his key into the lock, fighting with the door as Harry climbs the few steps up to stand behind him.

"I didn't know it was you," he says. Louis sighs heavily and leans his head against the door, his hand dropping away from his keys. It's exactly what he thought Harry was going to say, and it just makes everything worse.

"Shut up, Harry."

"How can you…" Harry sighs heavily. "We never talk anymore. You said you wanted to start over."

"I did," Louis says through gritted teeth. "But we can't, can we?"

"Not if you don't talk to me," Harry says pleadingly.

"You don't want to talk," Louis replies with a scoff. "Not unless I'm going to tell you I've changed my mind."

"Have you?"

Louis spins around and shoves Harry backwards. "What do you think?" he spits angrily, pushing Harry away again and turning back to the door.

This time, he's able to get it open and he slams the door in Harry's face.

It takes less than fifteen seconds for Louis to open the door to his and Liam's flat, but Harry's already begun to ring the buzzer before Louis even takes one step inside. Louis groans loudly and slams his hand against the intercom and shouts at him to go away, realizing only afterwards that Liam's not only still awake, but that he's sitting in the living room waiting for him.

"What's going on?" he asks curiously, his eyebrows furrowing further when Harry starts ringing the buzzer again. "Who is that?"

"Harry," Louis grunts. "Fuck off!" he shouts into the intercom again, but it doesn't make Harry leave.

"Did something happen between you two?" Liam asks. "Is that why you've been avoiding me all week?"

"I haven't been avoiding you," Louis lies. He chooses to ignore the incessant buzzing for the time being and he starts walking towards his room. Maybe if he ignores Harry hard enough, he'll get the message.

"Bullshit," Liam says, making Louis stop in his tracks. "You've gone out every night this week, and the week before too, don't think I haven't noticed."

"I didn't know you were my mum, Liam," Louis calls over his shoulder. "I wasn't aware I had to ask permission to go out."

"I'm not--" Liam huffs. "You know that's not what I'm saying."

"Then what are you saying?" Louis asks as he whips around to face him. "Just fucking say it already."

"I just want to make sure you're okay!" Liam shouts.

"I'm fine!" Louis shouts back.

"Yeah, you sure seem fine!" Liam says, scoffing and shaking his head.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Louis asks in a challenging tone.

"It's just…" Liam sighs. "You don't talk to me, Louis. You don't talk to any of us, you just go out every night and it's… it worries me, okay? I don't want you to do anything you're going to regret."

Louis presses his fists against his eyes and groans angrily.

"I'm not-- I don't want to like, control you," Liam continues, "I know you're an adult, alright? I'm just saying, as your friend, that I'm worried about you."

"I just…" Louis huffs loudly and rubs his eyes. "I'm coping, okay? I just want to--"

Louis is interrupted when there's a loud knock at the door and both his and Liam's attention snap to it instead of focusing on each other. Liam turns his head back towards Louis and gives him a confused look.

"Louis!" Harry shouts through the door. Louis closes his eyes and curses under his breath. "Louis, I'm not going anywhere!"

"Go away, Harry! I don't want to talk to you!" Louis shouts.

"I'll stay here until you do!"

"Oh, for fuck's--" Louis groans and puts his head in his hands. "Liam, make him go away."

"Tell me what's going on," Liam asks calmly. "And I'll make him go."

Louis sighs heavily as he stares Liam down for a few seconds. When his expression doesn't change, not one tiny bit, Louis relents and nods towards his room.

"Alright, c'mere."

He waves Liam over and he follows Louis into his room. He gives Louis another curious look when he closes the door behind him and Louis clears his throat.

"Didn't want him listening in," he offers as explanation.

"Okay," Liam replies, still obviously confused.

"Something… happened. Between me and Harry. Before I left for Paris." Louis sighs sharply. "It wasn't, like, a big thing. We were drunk, and I…" Louis shakes his head. "It didn't mean anything."

He glances up at Liam, who stays quiet.

"I kept expecting him to say something about it, or like, to show up the next day and maybe we'd have a laugh about it. But he didn't do or say anything. Fuck, we…" Louis laughs humorlessly, "we didn't talk the whole year I was gone."

"Jesus," Liam murmurs.

"I know," Louis says, sighing again. "I should've said something. I should've, like, reached out, or something. But I thought that, like, maybe, he didn't want me to. Like, maybe he didn't want to be friends anymore because of what happened."

"Lou," Liam says sadly.

"I know, it doesn't make sense, okay? I just didn't know what to think, and it was easier to just sort of… pretend it never happened."

"And now?" Liam asks carefully.

"Now…" Louis shakes his head and laughs again. "Now he's saying he's been in fucking love with me since uni." He scoffs loudly. "Can you believe that?"

Liam's mouth twists and Louis stares at him.

"Liam. What?"

"I didn't--"

"You knew," Louis says, and the color drains from his face. "You _knew_."

"He didn't, like, tell me, or anything," Liam says. "It was just… like, obvious. Like, in the way he looked at you, and stuff."

"Why didn't you tell me?!" Louis demands. "Why doesn't anyone ever fucking say anything?!"

"I didn't know for sure!" Liam says. "And even if I did, it wasn't really my place to tell, was it?"

"Then why'd he fuck all those other people?!" Louis shouts. "If he was so fucking in love with me, why didn't he ever make a goddamn move?"

"I… I don't…" Liam sputters, shrugging his shoulders uselessly.

"I just, I can't," Louis groans loudly out of frustration. "I can't trust him anymore, Liam. It's like I don't even know him."

"That's not true," Liam says with a frown. "Lou."

"I'm serious," Louis replies, shaking his head. "He's been lying to me this whole time."

"I'm sure he didn't think of it like that," Liam tries. "When did he tell you?"

"When I got back." Louis scoffs. "He said he would've waited for me."

"But you had Julien."

"I wasn't going to break up with him for Harry," Louis says quickly. "The thought never crossed my mind."

"I didn't say it did."

"Yeah, but. Still. I just wanted my best friend back." Louis hangs his head. "I thought it could go back to the way it was, but it couldn't. I was stupid to think that it could."

"You're not stupid, Lou." Liam puts his hand on Louis' shoulder and squeezes gently. "It's not your fault if you don't like Harry back, you know that, right?"

"I just… I feel like he's expecting me to. Like, especially now, now that me and Julien aren't…" Louis trails off and sighs. "But like, I don't know. I don't know if I do. But shouldn't I be allowed the fucking time to figure it out on my own?"

Liam looks at him for a long moment, staying quiet as he squeezes Louis' shoulder again. Louis sort of melts under the touch and slumps down onto his bed, putting his head in his hands while Liam stands nearby.

"I'll, umm…" Liam says softly, "I'll tell him to go, alright?"

Louis sighs heavily. "Thanks, Liam."

Liam heads for the door and opens it, pausing in the doorway to turn back and look at Louis.

"For what it's worth, I think you'd be good for him." Liam shrugs. "But I also think you've got a point."

Louis huffs out a laugh. Leave it to Liam to still be on both sides.

"Anyway," Liam says, clearing his throat. "Good night, Lou."

"Good night, Liam."

Louis falls back onto his bed as Liam shuts the door behind him. He lets out a long breath and closes his eyes. He's struck by the memory of Harry pressed against him in the club, and his breath catches. He rolls over onto his stomach and wills his brain to stop, to force all the images out of his head so he can try and think clearly.

It's not as easy as Louis wants it to be.


	5. Chapter Four

Six Months Later

_**oh, let me know** _

_**do I suffocate or let go?** _

Louis knows what Liam's going to say before Liam even opens his mouth. They've been _not talking_ about it for days now, and it's only a matter of time before Liam brings it up with a last ditch effort to get Louis to agree to come. He knows Louis doesn't have any other plans tonight, he knows if Louis doesn't go then he'll just sit on the couch watching trashy television by himself.

The thing is, watching trashy television by himself sounds a hell of a lot better to Louis than going to Harry's fucking show.

He hasn't been to a single one in the last six months, even though he's had multiple opportunities to do so. It seems like Harry's been playing gigs every single weekend, from what Liam's been saying, but it doesn't mean that Louis actually wants to go to any of them.

It's just too hard to be around Harry. Louis is still trying to figure out what Harry means to him, and having Harry too close doesn't make it any easier. If he's not staring at Louis with a hopeful look in his eyes, he's hinting at a question he should already know the answer to.

Louis has turned him down for a date enough times that Harry should know better by now than to ask, yet it seems to be the one thing that doesn't penetrate Harry's skull.

So, Louis reasons that not seeing Harry at all is the best course of action for everyone. They've made things awkward enough for Liam and Niall. Louis hates being the one tearing their group apart.

"Just go without me," he insists when Liam mentions it. "I'll be fine here."

"I know you will, but that's not the point." Liam's mouth twists in a frown. "I know you guys have, like, your issues and everything, but this is a really big deal for Harry. It's his biggest one yet."

"So?" Louis says with a huff. "If it's as big as you say, he won't even know I was there or not."

"Exactly!" Liam says.

Louis narrows his eyes. "What?"

"I'm not asking you to like, be front row or anything," Liam goes on, "just to be in the room. Y'know, for moral support."

"I don't think that's how moral support works, Liam."

"You know what I mean." Liam sighs. "Will you come along? I promise, I won't ask you to talk to him or anything, I just think--"

"If I say yes, will you shut up?" Louis asks, deciding that listening to Liam babble isn't worth the headache he feels coming on.

Liam grins broadly. Louis gives him the finger but instead of making him frown like it used to, Liam just rolls his eyes.

"Go on," he says, "get dressed."

"What?" Louis looks down at himself. "I am dressed."

"You're gonna go to the show in your trackies?"

"So what if I am?" Louis scoffs. "I'm not trying to impress anyone."

Liam lets out a long breath and shakes his head. Louis takes his turn to roll his eyes as he gets up off the couch and heads for the door, slapping Liam's arm on the way.

"C'mon, you're buying me first round."

They meet up with Niall outside of the club, and he wastes no time at all to make a big fuss over Louis coming to the show. Louis lets him go on, knowing it's all in good fun, and it almost fools him into thinking that tonight isn't going to be as terrible as it could be.

On their way in, a flyer on the wall catches Louis' eye. Harry's face practically takes up the whole thing, the text at the bottom detailing the venue and time for the show tonight. Louis tears his eyes away from it and wordlessly follows Niall and Liam to the bar, forcing a smile when they look at him so they don't ask him what's wrong.

He doesn't want to draw attention to himself. He's still all twisted up inside and nothing makes any sense at all. Why does looking at a picture of Harry make his stomach feel like it's full of lead? Shouldn't he be able to look at the face of his former best friend with a sense of neutrality? The fact that it's elicited this sort of reaction makes Louis think that maybe there's something buried underneath all the anger he's felt, but he pushes the thought away.

Even if it's there, it doesn't mean that Louis is ready to face it.

He sticks close to the bar, absolutely unwilling to give up the stool he'd managed to snatch up, not budging even one inch when Niall suggests they pop backstage to say hello to Harry. Liam looks at Louis before Niall's even finished saying it, and Louis stares blankly back at him.

"How about, umm," Liam says a little awkwardly as he clears his throat, "you and me go back and Louis can save our spots here, yeah?"

Niall's eyes dart to Louis for a split second before he agrees, and Louis breathes out in relief when the two of them disappear into the crowd. If he really wanted to, Louis knows Niall could've probably convinced him to go with them. He's always had trouble saying no to Niall above anyone else.

 _Except Harry_ , the voice in the back of his mind whispers. Louis curses under his breath, washing that voice away with another gulp of his drink. He signals for another from the bartender as he finishes the rest of his pint, mumbling regrets under his breath. If Niall and Liam don't come back before the show begins, Louis is seriously considering leaving.

He reckons Liam would understand. Niall might not, but he'd probably just take the piss and forget about it. But if Harry found out he was here and left… well, Louis just doesn't know what Harry would do.

The thought hadn't crossed his mind til that moment; what if Liam and Niall tell Harry that he's here? He hadn't told them not to, but Louis hopes that they wouldn't be stupid enough to tell him. Insecurity creeps into the pit of his stomach, bringing back that same twisty feeling he'd had when he saw the poster on the way in.

Louis closes his eyes and props his head against his fist, pressing his knuckles against his eyes with the slight hope that it'll distract him. He can't help but think he'd have been better off staying home tonight, watching some trashy program instead of sitting at a bar wondering if he feels something for Harry.

He groans loudly and drops his head into the crook of his elbow, hiding his face from the world. A hand claps down onto his shoulder a minute later, startling him so badly that Louis nearly knocks over his pint glass.

"What're you doing? Having a nap?" Niall asks with a laugh.

"Nah, just…" Louis clears his throat. "Y'know. Waiting for you two."

"Uh-huh," Niall replies. Louis looks away to avoid acknowledging the look on Niall's face. It's too close to feeling like Niall can see right through him, but looking at Liam doesn't prove to be much better.

"Show's starting soon," Liam says, offering Louis a smile.

"Yep." Louis nods, exhaling sharply as he turns back to his drink.

"Lou."

"What?" Louis huffs as he spins back around. "I'm here, Liam, alright?"

"Louis--"

"What're you talking about?" Niall asks. The smile on his face falters as he looks back and forth between Liam and Louis. "What's up with you, Louis?"

"Nothing," Louis says quickly. "It's nothing, Ni--"

"It's not nothing. Do you even want to be here?" Niall sighs.

"I…" Louis turns to Liam. "He said--"

"You haven't come to a single one of Harry's gigs since you've been home. And now that you're here, you're acting like it's the worst thing in the fucking world. Why can't you just be supportive of your friend?"

"Niall--" Louis starts, but it's no use. Niall turns around and disappears into the crowd, leaving the two of them by the bar. Louis sighs heavily, scrubbing his hand over his face before the weight of Liam's stare is too much to bear. "What?"

"He's…" Liam sighs. "He's got a point."

"Liam--"

"I mean, he didn't have to say it like that," Liam says quickly, "but like, y'know, he doesn't _know_. About you and… y'know."

Louis closes his eyes and sighs heavily. "Yeah. I know."

Just as Liam's about to say something else, the house lights go down and cheers echo through the club. Liam turns around and Louis' heart skips a beat as he looks towards the stage and sees Harry step out onto it, looking every bit a rockstar.

Despite the size of the club and the number of people between the two of them, when Harry looks out across the crowd Louis could swear he's looking right at him. It makes him even twitchier than before; he tugs at the collar of his shirt as though it's suddenly become too tight around his neck, and he starts sweating even though the temperature of the air around him hasn't changed a bit.

Louis tells himself that he's being ridiculous, that Harry can't possibly see him from all the way on the other side of the club with stage lights shining in his eyes. He twists on his stool to reach for his pint, holding onto the glass with both hands so he can be sure he won't drop it. His hands shake as he lifts it to his lips, taking a long draft from it as Harry introduces himself on stage.

Niall's cheers echo through the club and Louis feels a twang in his chest, the guilt from their argument weighing heavy on his heart. It's then that he makes a promise with himself: for Niall's sake, he'll stick around for the entirety of Harry's set.

By the end of the first song, Louis already regrets it. He can't take his eyes off of Harry, no matter how hard he wants to. If he looks away for even a moment, he finds his eyes drawn back to Harry in a matter of seconds. Nearly every song Harry plays is one Louis hasn't heard before. He listens to the lyrics as carefully as he can, finding most of them rather sad despite the upbeat melodies they accompany.

He can't believe how much Harry's stage presence has changed since the last time he watched him perform. Louis remembers seeing him fumble his way through more than a few open mic nights during uni, and that nervous kid is nowhere to be found. He's engaging with the crowd, feeding off their energy just like they do with his.

It's… mesmerizing. Louis hardly notices time passing at all.

He's surprised when Harry announces his last song, and even more surprised to find that his half-drunk pint is warm from being held for too long.

"So, umm…" Harry chuckles, "this last one is, well, it's all the things I can never find the courage to say to someone I care about. So, might as well sing them to a room full of strangers, huh?"

Harry laughs again and the crowd laughs along with him, but where their laughter holds humor, his holds self-deprecation. Louis' heart is in his throat as Harry starts playing, and by the end of the first verse, it's one hundred percent clear to Louis who Harry's singing to.

"Great, wasn't he?" Liam says, still clapping after Harry's finished the song and headed offstage.

Louis' head is still spinning, the lyrics echoing in his head: _I'm just trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat_. Louis can't help but feel the same.

"Yeah," he answers absently a few seconds later. "I'm, umm, gonna head to the toilet."

"He'll be coming back out," Liam says, giving Louis a slight frown. "Don't go yet."

"I'm just going to wee," Louis assures him. "I'm not running off, I promise."

Liam doesn't look like he fully believes Louis but he doesn't stop him from leaving. Louis makes his way through the crowd towards the toilets, finding that they're much closer to the stage than he expected them to be.

Not actually needing to use the toilet, Louis splashes some cold water on his face and takes a deep breath as he wills himself to calm the fuck down. The song is still stuck in his head, _we're not who we used to be, we're not who we used to be_ , and it's fucking distracting. Louis turns around and leans against the sink, pressing his wet hands over his face and breathing harshly through his fingers.

He's startled by the door opening and he quickly turns away from the bloke who enters, neither of them making eye contact. Louis grabs a paper towel and dries off his face and hands, making a quick exit a few seconds later. He lingers near the stage, halfway between it and the toilets, trying to decide if he wants to go back to where he left Liam or if he wants to stay close.

The crowd starts cheering again a minute later, and Louis catches a glimpse of Harry coming down the nearby hall on his way up to the stage. Louis is frozen in place but Harry doesn't appear to see him, which is something Louis can't decide on whether he's relieved about or not.

Once he's on stage, Louis notices that the hallway he'd come down is empty and a spark of an idea ignites in his mind. His feet move before his mind catches up, and the next thing he knows, he's heading down the hallway towards the room at the end and ducking inside.

His breathing is heavy as he shuts the door behind him, taking a look at his surroundings. Somewhere in his head he knows this was a terrible idea, that he's liable to get caught and tossed out of the club, but as soon as he spots something of Harry's, Louis knows it's worth the risk.

Louis crosses the room slowly, like he's afraid that if he makes one wrong move then he'll be caught, coming to stop just before he reaches a chair with a sweater draped over it. The sweater belongs to Harry, he knows it does. He's seen him in it a hundred times over the years, he shouldn't be surprised to see it right now.

It seems to take ages for Louis to reach out to touch it; it's as though time's slowed down so that one minute lasts a lifetime. It's just as soft as he remembers, possibly even more so with how well-worn it is. Louis doesn't mean to pick it up but between one breath and the next he's clutching it against his chest and he can smell the lingering scent of Harry's cologne on the fabric.

It's comforting in a way it shouldn't be, or at least in a way Louis doesn't think he necessarily deserves. He closes his eyes and breathes in even more deeply than before, realizing how absurd this all is a few seconds later.

"Idiot," he mumbles under his breath as he sets the sweater down, draping it across the back of the chair just like he'd found it. "Shouldn't even be back here."

Louis turns around and starts walking back towards the door, but before he can reach it himself, it opens. He freezes in place, staring open-mouthed at the person standing before him, standing in the doorway and looking at him in disbelief.

"Hi," Louis breathes out.

"Hi," Harry replies slowly as he slips through the door and closes it behind him. "Lou, what--" He clears his throat. "What're you doing here?"

"I, umm, I came to see the show. It was… good. Really good."

"Okay." Harry blinks. "What're you doing… _here_?"

"Here?" Louis' eyes dart around. "You mean like… here, in this room?"

Harry nods.

"Would you believe…" Louis huffs a laugh, "that I got lost on my way to the toilet?"

Harry bursts into a laugh, then catches himself like he didn't mean to do it. His eyes sparkle when he looks at Louis and he ends up laughing again, making Louis crack a smile at the sight and sound of it.

"Jesus," Harry says with a deep breath as he calms down. "I missed that."

"What?" Louis asks.

"Your shit sense of humor," he replies with a snort.

"Fuck off," Louis says, still smiling. "I have an excellent sense of humor. You're the one who has all those fucking terrible puns."

"Excuse me, I think you mean _excellent_ puns."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, mate." Louis chuckles. Harry looks at him for a long moment, and that funny feeling in Louis' stomach starts up again.

"I missed you."

"I missed you too," Louis replies, his voice coming out a bit choked up. "Didn't, umm, didn't really realize it til, y'know. Til now."

"I'm glad you came tonight. I wasn't sure if you would, y'know. When I saw Niall and Liam earlier I thought, maybe…"

"They didn't tell you I was here?"

Harry shakes his head, then drops his eyes to the floor. "Didn't stop me from looking for you in the crowd, though. Like I always do."

"Sorry," Louis says quietly.

"What're you saying sorry for?" Harry asks, looking up at him. "You don't have to."

"I do, though." Louis sighs. "If I'd come sooner, I probably would've… I dunno." He sighs again and runs a hand through his hair. His thoughts are spinning around his head too fast for him to articulate properly, and having Harry stare at him again certainly isn't helping.

"What?"

"Probably would've…" Louis looks down at the floor, closing his eyes as he gathers the courage to keep talking, "figured out things a lot quicker."

"Figured out what?"

Louis takes one last deep breath before he looks up at Harry, and he realizes there's only one thing he can do that will convey what he's failing to say.

He steps forward and kisses him.

Harry kisses him back immediately, his hands reaching up to cup Louis' jaw as they kiss. It's just as good as Louis remembers it being two years ago, if not even better this time around. He clutches at Harry, his fingers slipping into Harry's hair and twisting around his long locks, breathing hard when Harry breaks the kiss to groan.

"Louis," he says breathlessly. "Louis, does this… are you…"

"Harry," Louis whispers, pressing their foreheads together. "Shut up and kiss me."

*

Louis shouldn't be surprised at how well he and Harry fit into each other's lives all over again. It's essentially the same as it was in uni, but now with the added benefits of kissing and sex. In a matter of weeks they go from hardly speaking or seeing each other to being together at every possible moment.

Harry sends him texts all day long while he's at work, ranging from cute to extremely explicit. Half the time Louis has to stop himself from checking his phone until he's alone. As much as he adores his two students, now that he and Harry have a proper relationship he can't help but wish for more time to spend with him.

Louis isn't the particularly jealous type by nature, but there have been a few occasions where he's gotten a little hot under his collar while at one of Harry's gigs. Some total stranger's stood a bit too close or touched Harry somewhere that could very quickly cross into inappropriate. The fact that he's the only one who goes home with Harry tends to soothe his mild jealousy.

Still, he makes it a point to go to as many of Harry's gigs as he can.

Niall and Liam accompany him as often as they're able, but it gets increasingly difficult while Liam's in the middle of his training and Niall gets assigned an incredibly important account at work. The only good thing about the two of them getting busier is that they're less likely to walk in on Harry and Louis in a compromising position, considering Harry still lives with Niall and Louis with Liam.

Louis prefers it that way, if he's being honest. He knows moving in together is a big step, and he's certainly not looking for any ways to screw up this relationship by moving too fast. There are still times where he's not a hundred percent sure if Harry's all in; his residual worries about Harry's dating history are ever-present in the back of his mind, like there's someone whispering doubt in his ear and just doesn't know when to shut up.

But on the other hand, he can't help but think that maybe a relationship is exactly what Harry needed. His heart flutters when he thinks about how Harry's been in love with him for years and years, and how that has to mean _something_.

"Lou," Harry sing-songs, snapping Louis out of his own thoughts.

"Did you say something?" Louis asks, focusing his attention on Harry, who's leaning against the doorway and smiling at him.

"Just wanted your attention," Harry replies.

"Well, you've got it." Louis grins. "C'mere."

Harry's smile widens as he approaches Louis, climbing onto the bed and on top of him. Louis lifts his head up to press his mouth to Harry's, kissing him hello as though he's been gone for a week, not just for five minutes.

"What were you thinking about?" Harry asks between kisses, sliding off of Louis and pressing up against his side.

"Nothing," Louis replies as he kisses Harry's nose. "You."

"Hmm." Harry raises his eyebrow. "Which was it?"

"You," Louis admits. Harry hums happily as he kisses Louis again, stroking his fingers against his cheek.

"That's what I like to hear."

"Vain bastard," Louis teases fondly.

Harry hums again as he drops his head down to nose at Louis' neck, pressing intermittent kisses against his skin in a line down towards his shoulder. Louis makes a soft, content noise that spurs Harry on further. He tugs on the collar of Louis' shirt, stretching it to one side so he can continue his line across Louis' collarbone. He teases the skin with his teeth and then soothes it with his tongue, sending little sparks all across Louis' body as a result.

"Harry," Louis breathes out. When Harry doesn't respond, he lifts his hand and gives one of Harry's curls a sharp tug to get his attention. Harry inhales sharply, biting Louis a little harder than he means to, but he lifts his head and looks at him.

"Yes?" he asks. His eyes sparkle with mischief even as he tries to make his voice sound utterly unimpressed. Louis is absurdly fond of him.

"D'you know what next Thursday is?" he asks casually, twisting his finger around the curl in his hand and letting it go.

"International… Puppies… Day?" Harry offers, bursting into giggles before he's even half-finished. Louis rolls his eyes and tugs on Harry's hair again.

"No, you idiot." He waits til Harry's composed again before he says, "it's our three-month anniversary."

"Is it really?" Harry asks, humming softly.

"Mhmm," Louis replies as he slips both arms around Harry's neck. "Three months of being stuck with you."

"Are you sure I'm not the one who's stuck with you?" Harry asks, playing along.

"Hmm, definitely not. I'm clearly the superior catch."

"Clearly." Harry rolls his eyes, cutting Louis off with a kiss before he can protest.

"So," Louis says in a pointed tone once he's managed to pull his mouth away from Harry's. "What are we going to do for our anniversary?"

"You mean, what am _I_ going to do for _you_ on our anniversary?"

"Exactly." Louis grins and Harry huffs out a laugh, pressing a kiss to Louis' cheek before rolling onto his back.

"Three months," Harry says consideringly. "That's the… plastic fork anniversary, innit?"

"Nah, that's two months. Three's like, fine china set."

"A lot happened in the month between," Harry muses.

"Three months is an important milestone, Harold." Louis smirks, jabbing Harry in the stomach. Harry grunts and grabs Louis' hand, holding it tightly to avoid getting poked again.

"Of course it is," Harry replies, playing along.

"Well?" Louis goads. "How are you going to wine and dine me?"

"Depends," he says, pulling on Louis' arm until he rolls closer. "Am I getting anything out of this?"

"The pleasure of my company, obviously."

"I do enjoy that _pleasure_ ," Harry replies. Louis rolls his eyes.

"You won't be getting any pleasure if you keep that up," he says, and Harry frowns.

"What about if I get you a dozen roses?" Harry asks, lifting his head to press his mouth to Louis' jawline again. "And a tin of your favorite chocolates."

"Better," Louis says, already struggling to keep his voice level. "What else?"

"Get you all dolled up," Harry says. He lets go of Louis' hand and slips his under the hem of Louis' shirt, stroking the warm skin of his belly and making Louis shiver. "Take you out to a proper restaurant, let you have whatever you want off the menu."

"What if I want something not on the menu?" Louis asks, shutting his eyes and panting softly as Harry's fingers make their way up to his nipples. He traces a circle around one before pinching it between two fingers, and Louis gasps.

"I'll give you whatever you want," Harry says, his breath hot against Louis' neck. "Always do."

Louis bites back a whimper as Harry drags his fingers down his chest towards his jeans, pulling at his belt buckle until it comes loose. Harry's movements aren't as frantic as they usually are, but Louis still can't seem to catch his breath. He bites down hard on his bottom lip as Harry unbuttons his jeans and pulls the zipper down, fully expecting Harry to slip his hand underneath the waistband of his pants and take his cock in hand.

Instead, Harry tugs Louis' jeans down until they're around his thighs and then reaches around and grabs his bum. Louis gasps again as Harry sinks his teeth into the sensitive skin of Louis' neck, biting and sucking a mark as he keeps a firm grip on Louis' bum. He rolls his hips into Louis', keeping them pressed as close together as possible as Louis pants breathlessly in his ear.

"What d'you want, Lou?" Harry asks in a low, gravelly voice.

"M-More," Louis grunts, sucking in another sharp breath when Harry squeezes his arse particularly hard.

"Tell me what you want," Harry asks as he pulls Louis on top of him, using both of his hands to pull Louis' hips against his own. "Anything you want," he breathes out, his mouth pressed to Louis' ear, "I'll give it to you, Lou. Just tell me."

"Harry," Louis whines. His head is spinning with how good it feels to have Harry underneath him. He wants to feel Harry all over; his hands, his mouth, whatever it takes.

"C'mon Lou." Harry starts kneading the curve of Louis' bum, grinding his hips upwards at the same pace to make it even more difficult for Louis to think straight. "D'you like that?"

"Yes," Louis moans, "fuck, Harry, _yes_."

"D'you want more?" Harry asks. "Want me to play with your arse? Make you feel good?"

"Yes," Louis says, his voice cracking.

"Want my fingers?" Harry teases Louis by pressing two fingers between his cheeks, rubbing over his hole through the fabric of his pants and Louis shudders on top of him. "Or my mouth?"

Louis moans brokenly as Harry licks a stripe along the tendon in his neck. He slips his fingers under the waistband of Louis' pants and pulls them down over his bum, wasting no time to get his hands back on it seconds later.

"You feel so good, Lou," Harry moans. "D'you like when I touch you like this?"

"Harry," Louis groans, "stop... bloody... _teasing_ me."

"Think you like it," Harry replies, smirking against Louis' neck. "You love when I tease you, get you all riled up and wanting more."

Louis whimpers and drops his head into the crook of Harry's neck. He's sweating already and even though he's practically half naked with his shirt rucked up around his armpits and his jeans pulled halfway down his legs, it's still too much. His cock is full and leaking where it's trapped in his pants, pressed down against Harry's hips. Not a second goes by without their cocks rubbing against each other and if it continues, Louis can't be certain that he won't come in his pants.

"Harry," he whines. "Please."

"Alright, Lou," Harry says as he kisses Louis' neck soothingly. He slides out from underneath Louis with a little bit of difficulty, sitting up as quickly as he can so he can pull Louis' jeans and pants off the rest of the way.

Louis pulls his shirt off over his head before he lays back down on the bed, pushing his face down into the duvet with a groan when Harry starts trailing his fingers up and down his thighs.

"Look so good, Lou," Harry whispers. Louis' heartbeat is so loud in his own ears that he doesn't hear the bottle of lube being opened, but he certainly feels it when Harry presses a slick finger between his cheeks.

"Shit," he pants, already pushing his hips back into Harry's touch. Louis buries his head in his arms, muffling his sounds into the crook of his elbow.

"Lemme hear you," Harry says as he leans down and kisses the base of Louis' spine. He doesn't give Louis much of a chance to say anything in return before he pushes his finger inside, but he still gets what he wants when Louis moans loudly.

"Shit," he says again, louder and slightly higher pitched.

"That's it," Harry murmurs. He removes his finger and Louis is ready to shout at him for taking it away, but then Harry touches his tongue to Louis' hole instead and Louis loses his mind.

"Fuck!" he shouts as Harry starts flicking his tongue against his hole. "Harry, fuck, _yes_ , that feels so good."

Harry moans against him, using his hands to spread Louis' open further so he can get his mouth on him properly. Louis starts babbling nonsense underneath him as Harry licks him out, rocking his hips back into his mouth and rubbing his cock against the duvet under him. When Harry lifts his head, he quickly pushes two of his fingers into Louis and starts fucking him with them, twisting them around to open Louis up.

"Love when you get loud for me," Harry says as he leans over Louis and puts his lips on his shoulder, leaving open-mouthed kisses there. "Sound so fucking good, gets me so hard."

"Don't stop," Louis begs.

"Yeah?" Harry says, pushing his fingers deeper into Louis just to hear him moan. "Want my mouth and my fingers, do you? Bet you'd love it if I could get my cock in you at the same time, hmm?"

"Yeah," Louis cries out, rutting his hips down against the bed.

"Don't come yet, baby," Harry says, using his free hand to pull Louis' hips up while still keeping his fingers inside of him. "Don't want you to come yet."

"Harry," Louis whines. "I want--"

"I know," Harry says as he kisses Louis' shoulder again. "I know you want to, Lou. But I'm not done with you yet, am I? Still got my clothes on, and everything."

Louis groans loudly as his cheeks burn. He hadn't realized that Harry was still fully clothed while he's completely naked and writhing around on his bed. Embarrassment starts to creep in and he tries to hide his face again, but Harry makes a soft, sad noise in his ear.

"Got distracted," he whispers. "Couldn't take my hands off you. Just wanna be touching you all the time."

This time when Louis' cheeks pink up, he's smiling so widely he doesn't even care.

"C'mon, Lou, lemme hear you." Harry starts thrusting his fingers into him a little faster. "Wanna get you ready for my cock."

"Jesus," Louis breathes out.

"You want it? Want me to fuck you?" Harry goes on.

"Ye--" Louis gasps and moans loudly as Harry pushes a third slick finger inside him. "Shit, _yes_ , fuck me, Harry, _fuck me_."

"'M gonna fuck you, babe." Harry trails a line of kisses down Louis' spine until he reaches Louis' bum, and he starts flicking his tongue against Louis' rim while he keeps thrusting his fingers into him.

"Shit, Harry." Louis can't stop panting now, and his cock aches between his legs. He wants to reach down and grab it, to wank himself off until he comes with Harry's fingers buried inside of him, but he also desperately wants to get off with Harry's cock inside of him. "Harry, please," he begs, "please, fuck me."

"Yeah?" Harry breathes hotly over his hole. "You ready for me, baby?"

"Yes," Louis whimpers. "Please."

"How d'you want it?" Harry asks as he pulls his fingers out. Louis cries out at the loss but Harry presses his mouth to Louis' hole and moans against it, pushing his tongue in as far as he can before he pulls away. "Tell me," he says, breathing heavy over Louis' bum.

"Don't care," Louis grunts. "Harry, I don't fucking _care_. Just fuck me."

"Alright," Harry replies, laughing gently. "Back in a tick," he says, pressing one last kiss to Louis' bum before he climbs off the bed entirely to take his clothes off.

Louis ends up rolling onto his back to watch, rolling his eyes at Harry when he gets a smirk in return. Harry bites his lip and lets his eyes roam over Louis' body, lingering in particular on his cock. Louis wraps his hand around himself and starts stroking at a slow pace, letting his eyes fall closed at how fucking good it feels.

"Don't come," Harry reminds him as he climbs back onto the bed, now fully naked with an unwrapped condom in his hand. Louis opens his eyes and watches Harry roll the condom onto himself, starting to stroke himself a little faster just to be difficult.

Harry clicks his tongue in a scolding manner before he pulls Louis' hand away, pinning his arms up around his head by his wrists and holding him there. He rolls his hips forward and his cock brushes against Louis' bum, and Louis quickly wraps his legs around Harry's waist.

"Gonna fuck me, then?" he asks in a cheeky tone.

"You gonna be good for me?" Harry replies in a similar tone with a smirk.

"Depends on how good you fuck me," Louis says, raising his eyebrows.

"Is that a challenge?" Harry transfers Louis' wrists to one hand so he can reach down and position the head of his cock against Louis' hole, teasing it against the rim but not letting it sink in just yet.

"Y-Yes," Louis replies, meaning to sound defiant but the way his breath catches every time Harry's cock nearly pushes inside him gives away how much he wants this, as if Harry didn't already know.

"Think I'm up for it," Harry says, still smirking as he slowly pushes his cock forward and watches Louis close his eyes and drop his mouth open in a silent moan.

Harry presses his body against Louis' as he fills him up, putting his mouth over the mark he'd made earlier on Louis' neck. He sucks at it, making it even darker as Louis whimpers underneath him.

"Feel so good, Lou," Harry murmurs. "Always love the way you feel on my cock."

"Fuck me," Louis breathes out. "C'mon, want it."

"Know you do. I'm gonna fuck you, Lou, just like you like it."

"Do it," Louis badgers. "Do it, Harry."

"Alright," Harry says as he pulls his hips back slowly, thrusting into Louis again with a bit more force than before. "Like that, baby?"

"More," Louis moans. "C'mon, fuck me."

"Mouthy little tart," Harry grunts. "Always wanting more. Love how you can't get enough of my cock." He lets go of Louis' wrists entirely as he starts thrusting faster, putting just enough space between their bodies so that he can roll his hips against Louis harder and get him to be louder.

"Yeah, just like that, _fuck_ ," Louis moans again. "Fuck me, Harry."

"D'you like that?" Harry snaps his hips roughly and Louis shouts. "God, Lou, you feel so fucking good."

"Harry," Louis pants, "don't stop, wanna come."

"Want me to touch you, baby? Wanna come with my hand on you and my cock in your arse?"

"Yes, please, Harry, fucking touch me." Louis groans. "I wanna fucking come."

"Love when you come for me," Harry says as he sits up, putting one hand on Louis' hip and the other around Louis' cock. He starts jerking him off at a quick pace, trying to match the speed of his thrusts to send Louis over the edge.

Louis can't stop moaning now, he's writhing around as Harry's cock nails his prostate on every thrust and there's no way he'll last much longer. It hits him all at once and he yells loudly as he comes, shooting off so hard that his chest gets covered in his own come. He clenches around Harry's cock as Harry keeps working him through his orgasm, and within a minute Harry's hips are stilling against his arse and he's coming too, moaning loudly as he spills into the condom.

Harry collapses on top of Louis, not caring that now they're both covered in Louis' come. Neither of them speak for a few minutes, both of them trying to catch their breath as they come down from their orgasms.

"Shit," Harry says breathlessly, huffing a laugh as he props himself up over Louis and grimaces down at the mess between them.

"That…" Louis says, his voice coming out giddy as he pauses to laugh, "was a good fuck."

"Mmm, agreed." Harry leans down to kiss him but Louis turns his head to the side.

"Not til you brush your teeth," he says, groaning a little as Harry nibbles at the bruise on his neck. "I know where that mouth's been."

"You love it," Harry murmurs, licking at the lovebite before he lifts himself up and slowly pulls his cock out of Louis. "Shower?"

"S'pose I have to," Louis says as he looks down at himself. "Shouldn't have bothered this morning."

"C'mon," Harry says, extending his hand towards Louis. "We'll save water if we shower together."

Louis rolls his eyes but takes Harry's hand anyway. "You're just saying that because you think there may be a round two in it if we shower together."

Harry hums consideringly as Louis stands up. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Uh-huh," Louis says sarcastically. "Sure you didn't."

Harry slaps Louis' bum on their way to the shower, which eventually leads to Louis pinning Harry against the wall under the spray until Harry begs for mercy. They definitely end up wasting a lot more water than they would've if they'd showered separately, mostly because they end up distracted and kissing a fair number of times.

Eventually, the hot water runs out and they're forced to get out of the shower, but it doesn't mean they actually get dressed. They fall back into bed, still wet and completely naked, round two occurring not soon after with mutual handjobs and a _lot_ of kissing.

The only reason they pull themselves out of bed and get dressed is because Harry has a gig later that evening, and Louis promised he'd go even though both Liam and Niall backed out. He knows how much it means to Harry to have him there, even if he's just standing at the back.

"All my songs are for you, anyway." Harry kisses Louis. "Dunno how the whole room doesn't see it."

"Shut up," Louis says, fighting his smile. Harry kisses him again.

"Love you," he says, his voice soft and hesitant. He's staring directly into Louis' eyes and Louis' throat is suddenly dry. He swallows harshly and fights the urge to look away, his voice trembling as he speaks.

"I love you, too."

Harry grins widely and kisses him before he wraps Louis up in a tight hug, holding him like he's never going to let go. Louis shuts his eyes and hugs him back, trying not to listen to the voice in the back of his head that tells him this is dangerous.

He's falling too fast, and he knows it.

But instead of listening to the voice, Louis pushes it away and tells himself that he's just being silly. They've been together nearly three months, surely that's enough time to say I love you. He convinces himself that Harry's in it for the long haul, that Louis isn't just another notch in his bedpost but the real deal.

When Louis looks back on that moment, he wishes he hadn't been such a fucking idiot.

They never went to the fancy restaurant Harry talked about, they never even celebrated their three month anniversary. What they didn't know was that a representative from a record company was at Harry's gig that night, and within a week Harry was signing a deal that was going to make him more famous than either of them had ever even dreamed of.

That was the night everything changed.


	6. Chapter Five

Eight Months Later

_**you may hate me** _

_**but I can't hate you** _

Louis rolls over in bed, his arm splaying out beside him and coming in contact with something firm. He'd been intending on falling back asleep but the contact wakes him up immediately, but when he opens his eyes he sees it's only a pillow. He grabs it roughly, intending to throw it across the room, but he loses the will within a few seconds and cradles it against his chest instead.

It's a memory foam pillow, one that Harry had bought months ago after they first started spending nights together in Louis' bed. After a week of sleeping on Louis' squishy pillows and suffering for it, he tried to get Louis to replace them all, but only managed to convince him to allow one.

"I like my squishy pillows," Louis had said, scowling the whole way around the shop.

"You also like complaining that your neck hurts every morning," Harry had replied, tugging Louis against his side.

"I don't complain," Louis drawled, rolling his eyes as Harry gave him an incredulous look. "Not _every_ morning."

Harry laughed. "Every _other_ morning is still too often."

"I'll just take all the squishy pillows, then." Louis smirked. "Problem solved."

"You can, if you like. I've got my own pillow, now." Harry beamed.

Louis buries his head against the pillow and breathes in heavily. Harry's scent is barely there, even though Louis hasn't washed the pillowcase since Harry left for tour nearly two months ago. Still clutching the pillow tightly, Louis lays back down on his bed and presses his head against his own pillows and tries not to cry.

He's been counting down the days til Harry's return since the second he left, but there are still far too many between now and when he comes home. It's been four days since he's last managed to speak to Harry; only hearing his voice on the message that plays just before the beep for his voicemail, or if he decides to further torture himself by watching videos of his interviews or performances.

There's a soft knock at Louis' bedroom door but he doesn't say a word, nor does he make a move to get up. The door opens a few seconds later and Liam pokes his head in, gently pushing the door open further with his shoulder as he adjusts the two mugs full of tea in his hands.

"Lou? You up?"

"No," Louis answers flatly.

"Thought I heard you rustling about," Liam says as he comes over and sits down on the foot of the bed. "Made you tea," he adds, extending one of the mugs towards Louis.

Louis grunts, waiting another minute or so before he sits up and takes the mug from Liam. He's still hugging Harry's pillow, but thankfully Liam doesn't know the significance of it.

"Sunday's the day of _rest_ , Liam."

"It's nearly _two_ , Louis," Liam replies in the same dry tone.

Louis frowns down at his tea. The mug is warm in his hand, and there's steam rising from it. He looks up at Liam as he takes a small sip, pleased to find out that Liam's made it just the way he likes it.

"Up late?" Liam asks.

"Yeah," Louis replies. He's not going to admit that he'd stayed up til nearly three in the morning hoping that Harry would call. "Was prepping for Monday. The kids have exams coming up."

"Bet they love you for that," Liam says with a smile. "Do they still beg you to have class out in the garden every day?"

"Not every day," Louis replies, taking another sip of tea. "Just when the sun's out."

"How often do you say yes?" Liam's smirking now. "I've seen you with your sisters, you almost never say no to them."

"They're different," Louis says haughtily. "Though… the Pearson children can be quite persuasive when they want to be."

Liam laughs heartily. "Wish I'd had a tutor like you. Maybe I would've liked school more."

"I don't like your tone," Louis says as Liam continues to laugh. "I'm an excellent tutor, thank you very much."

"Never said you weren't."

They're both silent for a moment, each one taking sips from his respective mug of tea. There's a sense of normalcy in the air that Louis has missed, but every second that passes reminds Louis that things haven't been normal for months.

Sometimes he wonders if he'd known what was to happen, if he'd known that Harry would get as famous as he is now, would he still have gone through with it. Would it have been easier to resist Harry's allure, knowing that things would only get harder as time went on? Would Louis have been happier with someone else? If he'd pushed those feelings down, kept Harry in his life as a friend and nothing more, would he have been able to fall in love with another man?

"Niall texted," Liam starts, pulling Louis out of his own head. "Wanted to know if we all could go for dinner or something tonight."

"Is that right?" Louis smiles. "Did he finally finish up that project that's had him working night and day for weeks?"

"S'pose so," Liam replies. "That, or he's gone mad and quit."

"Wouldn't put it past him, the mad bastard."

"So, I'll tell him yes?" Liam checks, once their laughter's died down.

"Yeah." Louis nods. "Wouldn't want him to starve without us."

Liam leaves him shortly after to drink his tea in solitude, and Louis finally puts Harry's pillow back on the other side of the bed. He gulps down the rest of his tea, setting the mug on his bedside table before he picks up his phone and unlocks it.

He sees the text from Niall that Liam mentioned, and he chuckles softly as Liam's reply comes through a few seconds later. He closes his messages and checks his email, thumbing through a handful of other apps before he goes back to his inbox and clicks on his text thread with Harry.

Harry's responses are few and far between, the last one from a few days ago. During the first week of Harry being gone, Louis made a point to text him every morning and every night. It was one of his attempts to keep things as normal as possible, even if Harry didn't reciprocate his efforts.

Louis pauses for a moment, tapping his fingers against his phone case as he stares down at the screen. The last text he sent to Harry was late the night before, delivered well over twelve hours ago with still no reply. He shouldn't still be surprised by this, but he is, and it hurts.

Deciding not to try again, Louis sets his phone down and his eyes wander over towards his laptop on the other side of the room. He stands from his bed and carefully closes his bedroom door before he goes over to his desk, sits down, and opens his laptop.

He doesn't have to type more than the first letter of Harry's name for his search history to suggest exactly what he's looking for. He's not expecting to see anything new; for now he's content to watch whatever interview or performance he's already seen a dozen or more times. But when the page loads, there's a headline that immediately catches his eye: **Harry Styles Dishes On His Ideal Date!**

Louis rolls his eyes at the link, knowing full well it's clickbait meant to get more people to watch the interview. He probably just talks in circles for ten minutes without actually answering the question, but Louis doesn't care. It'll be enough just to see his face and hear his voice at the same time, even if it's from hundreds of miles away.

His heart swells as soon as the video loads and he sees Harry's smiling face. He hardly hears anything that the interviewer says for the first thirty seconds, he's too preoccupied with memorizing every inch of Harry's smile. In the end, he has to rewind the video back to the beginning so he can pay attention properly this time around and not get distracted.

He expects the " _are you dating anyone?_ " question, but it's still strange to hear it asked. Harry's been asked it before, but he's always brushed it off without an answer. The first time Louis saw an interview like, he'd called Harry afterwards to ask him about it, and all Harry had said was that he didn't think it was important.

"It's nobody's business but yours and mine," he'd told Louis. "And I don't want you getting shit just because we're together."

It was enough, then. But that was months ago, and Louis is feeling a little selfish. It couldn't hurt for Harry to at least say he's dating _someone_ , even if he doesn't say Louis' name.

Once the question is posed, Louis braces himself for the standard brush off. A smile and sheepish laugh, or Harry waving his hand around and mumbling incoherently for a few seconds until the subject changes.

Instead, he says no.

Louis immediately pauses the video. He rewinds it a bit and presses play, hearing the question over again quickly followed by Harry's answer. _Are you dating anyone? No._

Even though the interview isn't even half over, Louis closes out of the tab and shuts his laptop. His heart is beating wildly in his chest and he presses his face into his hands as he tries to calm himself down. He desperately wishes he could talk to Harry, that he could set the record straight and find out why Harry said what he did.

But there's a cruel voice in the back of his head saying even if he tried calling, there's a slim chance that Harry would pick up. Somehow the prospect of hearing Harry's voice only on his voicemail hurts more than not hearing it at all.

He stands up from his desk, turning his back on his laptop as he decides that it's time to take a shower. He might as well start getting ready for the dinner now and hope that it's enough to keep his mind off of things.

*

Dinner, as it turned out, was just a starting point. Louis knows that Niall will deny it later on, but he suspects that his plan all along was to get Louis out of the house and out of his funk. He can't be sure whether Liam was in on it or just along for the ride, but either way Louis can't say that he didn't have a good time.

For the first time in weeks, Louis didn't spend all night thinking about Harry. During the week, he's busy enough with his teaching that he doesn't have the time to dwell on what Harry's doing or whether he's texted. The thought is always at the back of his mind, but it's muted well enough that Louis can make it through the day.

Funnily enough, good alcohol and even better company seem to do the trick even better.

Louis is still stumbling a little when he and Liam get back to their flat late that night. It's nearly two in the morning by the time Liam unlocks the door, and both of them mumble good night as they head to their respective bedrooms. Liam's lucky enough to have the day off tomorrow, whereas Louis is already dreading when his alarm will go off in a few hours.

After washing his face and drinking a full glass of water, Louis tucks himself into bed and shuts off the light. Not two minutes after, his phone starts buzzing on his bedside table, the screen lighting up half the room.

Louis groans as he slaps at it, wanting to make it stop without extending any real effort to do so. It continues to buzz until Louis actually takes it in his hand, suddenly feeling wide away when he realizes who's calling: it's _Harry_.

There's a part of Louis that doesn't want to answer the phone. He stares down at Harry's name on the screen and he wants to let it ring out, let him feel what it's like to have his call go unanswered.

Still, there's a larger part of him that's desperate to hear Harry's voice in his ear. It's the closest he can get to having him, and he's not about to miss out on an opportunity that might not come again for who knows how long. There so many questions he needs to ask, things he needs to know. He can't let his pride ruin this chance.

"Hello?" Louis says, his voice coming out a little thick from the alcohol still present in his system.

"Lou," Harry purrs. "I was starting to worry you'd gone to sleep."

"Nah, I was--" Louis pauses to clear his throat, "--out. Y'know, with the lads."

"You still out?" Harry asks.

"No," Louis says as he lies down on his bed, exhaling softly. "'M home now, should probably go to sleep."

"Me too," Harry replies with a sigh. "Don't want to, though."

Louis closes his eyes and tries to remember where Harry is right now. A month ago he was in Australia and the time zone change made even more of a mess of their communication, and after that he was in Japan. Louis thinks he's somewhere in continental Europe now, like maybe Germany or Spain. He groans softly and scrubs his hand over his face; he really should've memorized Harry's tour by now.

"Lou? What're you doing?"

"Nothing." Louis clears his throat. "What're you doing?"

"Do you really want to know?"

"I asked, didn't I?" Louis says sharply, but his heart skips a beat when he hears a sharp intake of breath and a rustle of clothing on the other end of the line. "Harry."

"What?" Harry asks, a smirk evident in his voice.

"What're you doing?" Louis asks again, his tone much lower than before.

"Missed your voice," he replies, not answering the question. "You always sound so good, Lou."

Louis swallows harshly and closes his eyes as he listens to Harry moan in his ear, letting his hand slowly drift across his waist until he can press the heel of his hand against his own cock as it fattens up in his jeans.

"Talk to me," Harry pleads. "C'mon, let me hear you."

"Harry," Louis whispers. He bites his lip as he unzips his jeans and shoves his hand into his pants, stifling the moan that escapes when his hand wraps around his cock.

"That's it," Harry says. "You touching yourself?"

"Yeah," Louis replies with a sharp gasp. Harry's the one with the kink for dirty talk, whereas Louis never knows what to fucking say. He loses track of his thoughts the more turned on he gets until he's just a whimpering mess; like putty in Harry's hands.

"I wanna touch you." Harry groans. "I wanna make you come. Get you begging for it, know you like it."

"Yeah," Louis repeats, speeding up his strokes.

"Wish I could see you right now. Wanna see you get yourself off like this, babe. Love when you get all desperate for me."

"Harry," Louis whines. Harry groans in his ear and Louis can hear the slap of skin on skin and it spurs him even further, bucking his hips up to meet his hand.

"I'd spread you out, make you come on my fingers first. If you're good, I'd give you my tongue too. Know you love that, don't you?"

"Y-Yeah…" Louis' breaths are shaky and shallow as he tries to jerk up into his hand and fuck his hips down against the bed at the same time. "God, Harry."

"Are you hard, babe? Bet you wish I was there to fuck you, hmm? D'you miss my cock in your arse?"

"God, yes," Louis gasps. "Harry, I'm--"

"Close?" Harry moans. "Come for me, Lou. Wanna hear you come."

"Harry," Louis whimpers as he comes with his hand still stuffed down his pants, and his boyfriend moaning in his ear from thousands of miles away.

"God," Harry groans as he comes, "Jesus, Lou, you sound so fucking good."

Louis hums softly in response, listening to Harry come down from his orgasm. A few minutes pass in silence before Louis gathers his thoughts enough to speak again.

"Harry?"

"Yeah?" He sounds far more tired than before, and Louis loses his nerve.

"Wish you were here," he mumbles sadly.

Nothing but silence follows. Even when Louis says Harry's name loudly, there's no response. Louis hangs up, tossing his phone onto his nightstand as he gets up from his bed to clean himself off.

By the time he gets back into bed, he's properly miserable just like he was when he woke up this morning. He grabs his phone and opens a new text to Harry, typing out three simple words: _**come home soon**_.

He stares at the screen until it goes to black, and when he brings it back up by unlocking his phone, he deletes the text. _Wouldn't get an answer anyway_ , he thinks to himself as he rolls onto his stomach and presses his face into his pillow.

*

The day Harry comes home from tour is a day that Louis spends horribly distracted during his lessons. He zones out more than once after giving his students exercises to work on, being snapped back to reality only once they've finished and have called his name several times. They both giggle, as children do, and try to get him to say what's got his mind elsewhere.

"A friend of mine's coming home today," he tells them.

"Where's he been?" Connor asks.

"Off having adventures," Louis replies.

"What sort of adventures?" Nora asks, feeding off her brother's curiosity.

"All sorts," Louis says with a smile. "Maybe, if you're lucky and do well on your exams, I'll share some of his stories with you two."

He sets them to work on a new sheet of exercises as he looks over the ones they've just finished, looking up halfway through to see Mrs. Pearson standing in the doorway with her eyes on him.

"Keep working," he says to the children, motioning that he's got his eyes on them when they giggle. He follows Mrs. Pearson into the hallway to hear what she has to say away from the curious ears of her children, wondering what it could be that would have her home this early.

"Louis, do you remember what I told you a few weeks ago? About the possibility of us moving to the States?"

"Yes," Louis answers. The first time she mentioned it, she had made it seem like the possibility was remote rather than likely. Now as he looks at her, he thinks perhaps the odds have changed.

"It's now a matter of when, not if." She smiles a little, but it seems sad. "I know that you moved with us once, and we were so grateful for it. I don't expect you to do it again, but…"

"Where in the States?" Louis asks out of curiosity more than anything. He can't imagine moving out of London now, not with Harry just about to come home.

"California," she says. "Los Angeles. Bit of a change from here."

"You could say that," Louis replies, chuckling. There's a stretch of silence, and Louis doesn't really know what to say. She hasn't properly offered so it feels a bit weird to decline, but he can't imagine that he'd agree to moving halfway around the world.

"Will you consider it?" she asks. "We'd pay for your moving expenses, obviously. I know the kids would love to have you come with us, they're so fond of you."

"Would it be for a year? Or for longer?"

Her mouth twists. "I'm not sure."

"When would I have to decide?"

"We'll be leaving at the end of the month. The sooner, the better, but…" She sighs. "I know it's a big decision."

"I'll think about it," Louis says. Mrs. Pearson nods before turning away, and Louis heads back into the other room to continue his lesson.

Truth be told, he fully means to tell the lads about the offer and get their opinion on what he should do. He knows it's a fantastic opportunity and he loves working for the Pearson family, but it's also much further than the move was last time and the uncertainty of the timeline makes Louis anxious.

But at the end of the day, Louis sees a text from Harry waiting for him and every thought on his mind vanishes at once as he reads it.

_**home. can't wait to see you.** _

Louis is full of nervous energy the whole way back to his flat, going over a list of things to do in his head as soon as he gets there. He wants to spend as little time as he has to there before he goes to see Harry. It doesn't seem real that the day is finally here, that he's going to have Harry in his arms again.

The moment Harry opens the door to his and Niall's flat, Louis still isn't a hundred percent sure that it's not all a dream. He barrels forward and wraps Harry up in a hug, breathing in his scent as he holds him tightly. Harry's arms circle his waist and he holds onto Louis just as tightly, pressing his face against Louis' neck as they stand in the doorway.

They stay like that for at least five minutes, neither one making a move as though they're both afraid the other will disappear if they put even one inch of space between them. Louis is the first to move, in the end. He pulls back from Harry's chest and cups his hands around Harry's face, smiling at him before bringing their lips together in a sweet, close-mouthed kiss.

"Missed you," Louis whispers, rubbing his nose against Harry's.

"Missed you," Harry repeats as he presses his forehead against Louis' and sighs heavily. "Feel like I could sleep for weeks."

"C'mon, then," Louis says as he gently herds Harry back across the threshold and closes the door behind them. "Let's go to bed."

Louis links their hands together as they walk through the flat towards Harry's room. Harry climbs into bed, the covers already pulled down, as Louis takes off his shoes. He slides into bed next to Harry and they curl around each other as Harry presses his lips against Louis' forehead.

"Sleep better with you," he murmurs, his voice laced with exhaustion. Louis smiles as he slips his hand under Harry's shirt, pressing his palm against warm skin. He's not anywhere near as tired as Harry is, but there's such comfort in being close to him that Louis finds himself drifting off to sleep not long after Harry does.

*

The week that follows Harry's return from touring makes Louis think that everything has gone back to normal. They spend every night together, either at Louis and Liam's flat or at Niall and Harry's, making up for lost time. It doesn't strike Louis as odd that they don't go out for meals or really outside for any reason; he assumes that Harry's had his fill of the outside world for the time being and it doesn't really matter to Louis, he just wants to have Harry to himself for a bit.

Louis also never mentions the offer from the Pearsons, pushing it to the back of his mind until he forgets about it entirely. Why would he leave London when he's got everything he wants right here?

But the fact remains that their one-year anniversary is approaching quickly, and Louis isn't going to let this anniversary go to waste. He wants to ensure that they celebrate it together properly, especially since Harry's _home_.

It's not difficult for Louis to make a reservation at a nice restaurant without Harry finding out. He arranges the entire evening to be a surprise, hoping that everything will turn out as perfectly as he's planning it to be.

On the morning of their anniversary, Harry wakes Louis up with a mug of tea and a kiss. It's something of standard practice now, but after a few sips of tea Louis remembers what day it is and he smiles to himself.

"What?" Harry asks, settling down on the other side of the bed. Louis sets his mug down and rolls over, tugging Harry towards him for a kiss.

"Happy anniversary," Louis breathes out after they've been kissing for a while. He looks into Harry's eyes, expecting to see something other than the slight quirk of his eyebrows signaling his confusion. It's gone in an instant, but Louis pulls back. "Did you forget?"

"No," Harry says quickly, but the look on his face tells Louis the exact opposite.

"You forgot," Louis says, unable (or subconsciously unwilling) to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

"I'm sorry," Harry says as he crawls on top of Louis and kisses him deeply. "I'll make it up to you," he says in Louis' ear. "Promise."

"It's alright," Louis replies before inhaling sharply when Harry's fingers trace his ribs, making their way down to the waistband of his pants. He's about to mention the dinner he's got planned for them but he loses all train of thought when Harry's mouth suddenly finds its way around the head of his cock.

Louis moans once out of surprise and then again out of pleasure as Harry sucks him off, pinning his hips down against the bed. Louis slides his hands into Harry's hair, twisting and pulling to make Harry moan around him. Harry's fingers dig deeper into his hips, not letting Louis buck up into his mouth even as he tries.

"Harry," Louis says with a choked moan as he comes within a few minutes. He's utterly powerless when it comes to Harry deepthroating him, and Harry knows it.

"Happy anniversary," he says with a cheeky grin as he crawls back up Louis' body and kisses him.

"Happy anniversary indeed," Louis replies breathlessly. He's quick to return the favor, wrapping his hand around Harry's cock and bringing him off as they kiss, with one of Harry's hands gripping Louis' bum.

"We should stay in bed all day," Harry murmurs afterwards, pressing light kisses against Louis' neck.

"We could," Louis replies, laughing softly as he arches his neck, giving Harry more room to work with. "We do have somewhere to be tonight, though."

" _We_ do?" Harry asks, lifting his head.

"Yeah." Louis smiles. "I made us reservations for dinner. For our anniversary."

"That's great, Lou, but…" Harry bites his bottom lip nervously. "I can't."

"What d'you mean, you can't?" Louis frowns. "It's our anniversary, what else could you possibly have to do?"

"There's a label thing," Harry says. "I have to go, Lou."

Louis pulls himself out from under Harry and sits up, sighing deeply as he puts his head in his hands. Harry sits up and puts his hand on Louis' shoulder, only to get it shrugged off.

"I'm sorry," he says, more like a peace offering than he really means it.

"You never told me about this _thing_ ," Louis says sourly.

"You didn't tell me you'd planned a dinner," Harry replies.

"It was supposed to be a surprise," Louis says angrily as he whips his head around to look at Harry. "I was trying to do something nice for our anniversary that you _forgot_ about."

"I said I was sorry," Harry says as Louis gets up and starts to pace around the room. "What do you want me to do?"

"Don't go," Louis says with a shrug. "They can't survive without you for one night?"

"It's not that easy--"

"Don't give me that. Were you even going to tell me about it?"

"I didn't think you'd want to go," Harry says, sighing. "It's not really--"

"You've been gone for months," Louis interrupts. "Do you really think I'd give up an opportunity to spend time with you?"

Harry hangs his head. "Do you want to go, then?"

"If you mean, 'do I want to spend time with my boyfriend on our one year anniversary?' Then yes, I want to go."

"Okay," Harry replies, sounding defeated.

Louis resists the urge to climb back onto the bed and curl up in Harry's arms, choosing instead to dwell in his anger a bit more. He heads for the bathroom, not bothering to ask Harry if he wants to join in on his shower. Louis stays in the shower for far longer than necessary, standing under the spray as he fights back tears. He doesn't want to cry over this, he knows it's stupid.

 _It's just another day_ , he tells himself. The important thing is that they're together, it doesn't matter if they go to some posh restaurant or not. He should just be happy that they won't be apart on their anniversary.

The air between them hasn't fully cleared by the time they need to leave for Harry's label function. They've spoken a handful of times in the hours that have passed, but they've barely touched and they certainly haven't kissed. Louis curls in on himself after they've climbed into the car that came to pick them up, his eyes on the window to avoid seeing Harry not look at him.

This is nothing like what Louis had expected their anniversary to be.

On the way to the party, their car comes to a stop in traffic in front of some restaurant that Louis has never seen before. The only reason he notices it is because there's a couple seated outside who are clearly on a date, laughing and smiling as they feed each other bits of food off of their own plates. Louis' heart clenches as he thinks about how that could've been - how it _should've_ been - him and Harry. He turns away from the window and chances a glance at Harry, seeing him staring out the window on the other side.

The car starts moving again and Louis turns back to his own window, watching as they leave the restaurant with the happy couple behind.

There's a nervous itch under Louis' skin that grows worse the closer they get to their destination. Louis has no idea what to expect out of the night, and he hates that he and Harry are barely speaking. They're both stubborn, he knows this well, but they've been apart for too long to let one fight drive a wedge between them.

Louis reaches out with his right hand, letting it drift slowly across the seat until it brushes against one of Harry's fingers. He freezes but doesn't pull away, instead letting their hands touch the barest amount. Harry's fingers twitch against Louis' and for a moment, Louis thinks he's going to pull back.

Just as Harry's hand covers his own, the driver pulls the car over and it comes to a stop. Louis' eyes lift from the floor of the car to the window, turning to look at Harry when he realizes he still has no idea where they are. When their eyes meet Harry gives him a small smile, and Louis feels Harry squeeze his hand.

"C'mon," he says softly. He opens the door and takes his hand off of Louis' in order to climb out of the car.

Louis waits a moment before opening his own door and climbing out the other side.

It's loud, far louder than Louis expected it to be. For a moment he isn't sure whether or not they're in the right place; it seems entirely possible that they've accidentally gone into a normal club and not whatever club is supposed to be hosting Harry's label's event.

Louis sticks close to Harry's side as they make their way further into the club. He tries reaching for Harry's hand again but he misses when Harry lifts his arm to wave to someone, and Louis doesn't try again.

There's no denying that Louis is out of place and about as far out of his league as he can get. He starts to wish he hadn't come along, that he'd just stayed home instead of spending the night following Harry around like a wounded puppy. This isn't what he'd planned for their anniversary, and he was wrong to think that being here with Harry would be enough.

He's frowning by the time they reach the bar, and he doesn't try to hide it when Harry finally turns to look at him. He waits for Harry to say something, to ask what's on his mind, but it never comes. Harry's attention is stolen by someone else, and Louis flags down the bartender.

He orders two drinks, one for himself and one for Harry. He doesn't interrupt Harry's conversation and pays for both of them with a grateful nod towards the bartender, tipping him well even though it takes up all the cash he's got in his wallet.

Harry turns back around after Louis has made it halfway through his drink. The other person has disappeared back into the crowd behind them, making no effort to introduce themselves to Louis or ask who he is. Louis tries not to let it bother him, but even he can't stop his jaw from clenching.

"This for me?" Harry asks as he reaches for the drink Louis hasn't touched.

Louis nods as he looks at Harry out of the corner of his eye. He's not looking at Louis either; he picks up the drink and turns so his back is against the bar, surveying the crowd around them. Louis looks back down at the drink in his hand and his mind turns back to wondering why he agreed to come along in the first place. There's a gentle nudge against Louis' arm that catches his attention, and he turns his head to see Harry looking at him properly.

"My favorite," he says, raising his glass in a toast.

Louis smiles, in spite of himself. "I remembered."

Harry smiles back, but as soon as he looks away Louis' smile fades. He watches as Harry waves to someone else on the far side of the room, and within a few seconds he knows what's coming.

"I'll be right back," Harry tells him, pressing his hand against Louis' arm for half a second before he slips into the crowd. Louis doesn't even have time to open his mouth before Harry's gone.

Louis waits. He finishes the rest of his drink but doesn't order another. His mind wanders, thinking idly about what would've been if they'd gone to the restaurant instead. If he closed his eyes, he could probably imagine the two of them chattering away as they looked at the menu, smiling at each other in the candlelight.

Instead he's alone in a club full of people, while Harry's god knows where talking to people who have no idea who Louis is or why he's here. The more time Louis spends in a room full of people he doesn't know, the less he wants to be here at all.

Nearly twenty minutes go by without Harry coming back, and Louis reaches his limit. He scans the crowd around him for Harry, finally managing to spot him in a booth on the far side of the room. His mind races as he makes his way towards him; he doesn't know what he's going to say, or if he's going to say anything at all. He just doesn't want to be alone anymore.

Nobody even notices him when he first approaches. He stands awkwardly at the edge of the booth and looks pointedly at Harry until he acknowledges him, but even then Harry doesn't stop the conversation to introduce him.

It's only when the conversation reaches a natural pause that someone else speaks, asking him who he is and why he's standing here. Louis looks from them back to Harry, giving him the opportunity to speak first.

"I'm Louis," he says, when Harry says nothing. "I'm Harry's--"

"Friend. Louis is my best friend!" Harry says, cutting Louis off. "I was wondering where you were," he continues, shuffling around until he's at the edge of the booth next to him, gesturing for the others to move aside so Louis can sit down. "C'mon, sit."

"I was waiting for you," Louis says, pulling his arm away before Harry can reach it. "But now I'm going home."

"What?" Harry asks with a slight laugh as Louis takes a step back. "Louis, wait."

Louis turns his back on them all and starts walking back across the floor, making his way towards the exit as Harry calls his name behind him. He doesn't expect Harry to follow, but seeing as how nothing else on this night has gone the way Louis expected it to, he really shouldn't be surprised when Harry manages to catch his arm.

They both come to a stop in the hall leading to the exit, far enough from the crowd that Louis can hear Harry's voice without him having to shout. He won't turn around, he doesn't want Harry to see the tears in his eyes.

"Louis, what are you doing?" he asks.

"Leaving," Louis replies flatly.

"Why?"

"Why?" Louis laughs hollowly. "Why d'you think?"

"Come back inside," Harry says as his hand slides down Louis' arm until it's clasping his wrist. "Come back, and--"

"And what?" Louis asks, finally turning around. "Why should I? So you can ignore me some more?"

"Louis, I--"

"Those people," Louis gestures towards the other room, "in there don't even know who I am. They don't care, and I know that. I'm fine with that, really, I am. I don't need them to know or care who I am, I just want them to know what I am to you." Louis' voice starts to shake, but he barrels on. "It's our fucking anniversary, Harry, and you just called me your _friend_ in front of all those people."

"You don't understand. It's not--" Harry stops and sighs heavily. "We shouldn't talk about this here. Later, we can--"

"Later?" Louis repeats with a scoff. "Later tonight? Tomorrow? Next week? Or, maybe you'd prefer never. Maybe you'd rather not have a boyfriend at all, seeing as how you'd rather not fucking tell anyone that you _do_ have one."

"Lou--" Harry starts, but he stops when Louis wrenches his wrist away.

"I'm going home," he tells Harry. "Don't follow me."

Louis doesn't look back once on his way home. His heart races and his throat feels like he's swallowed a stone that's now stuck, but he won't look back. He sits on a crowded tube and shuts his burning eyes so he doesn't start crying, all the while wondering how the hell today went so wrong.

Liam's sitting on the couch when Louis unlocks the door and steps inside, and seeing the look of confusion on Liam's face is almost as bad as the look Harry had given Louis when he approached the booth.

"Aren't you supposed to be with Ha--" Liam pauses when he sees the redness in Louis' eyes, and he gets up from the couch as Louis shuts the door and heads directly for the kitchen.

Louis starts rummaging around in the cupboards, slamming the doors with such force that they rattle on their hinges. Liam stands in the doorway and watches with a sad face until Louis stops thrashing around their kitchen and turns to face him.

"Why don't we ever have any fucking food?" he snaps angrily. Liam frowns and Louis softens a bit. They both know Louis is lashing out because he's upset, and even if Liam doesn't exactly know _why_ he's upset, he's not going to scold Louis for his actions.

"D'you want to go to McDonalds?" he asks, tilting his head and giving Louis a bit of a smile. "My treat."

Louis breathes out a sharp laugh and nods. "Yeah. I really fucking do."

*

It's funny how easily Louis' life seems to fit in a bunch of boxes. It doesn't take long for everything to get packed, not like it had when Louis was going to Paris for only a year. Louis tries not to think about how much everything's changed since then, it's hard enough when he comes across things of Harry's, or things that remind him of Harry. He's tossed all of them into a box labeled "BURN", but he's fairly certain that Liam won't actually let him set fire to it.

At least, not while it's in their flat.

Liam hasn't mentioned Harry once since that night, nearly two weeks ago. Louis spilled his heart out to Liam over Big Macs and fries, just the two of them sat in a tiny plastic booth at midnight. Liam listened patiently, hummed and gasped at all the right places, and loyally took Louis' side.

"What're you going to do?" he asked, chewing nervously on the straw stuck in his drink.

"I dunno," Louis muttered.

It took a few minutes for Louis to remember that he'd already been given a way out. All he had to do was accept it and he could disappear to somewhere that Harry would never think to look.

"I'm going to move," he told Liam, "to America."

"C'mon," Liam replied with a snort. "You can't be serious."

"I am," Louis said firmly. "The Pearsons are moving, they offered to move me with them. I just have to tell them yes and--"

"Louis," Liam interrupted. "I know you're upset, but--"

"But what?" Louis stared at him. "He left me for months. Why shouldn't I do the same?"

"But it's not the same. He came back. You're talking about leaving for… for good."

"So?" Louis scowled and looked down at his hands. "He might as well still be gone. The Harry I knew didn't come back."

Louis has been waiting for Liam to bring Harry up ever since that night. There are times where he catches Liam frowning, but when he asks about it he's always given the same answer.

"Just gonna miss you, is all."

It hurts to hear Liam say that, but Louis knows that eventually, that pain will lessen. They'll keep in touch, they'll visit each other when possible. What Louis doesn't know is when the pain that Harry caused will disappear, or if it will at all. He just knows that he can't sit around London waiting for it to happen.

The one good thing is that the longer he goes without talking to Harry, the less it seems to hurt.

On the morning after the disaster that was their anniversary, Harry sent a dozen different texts and called multiple times. Louis didn't answer a single one. The bombardment continued through the day and into the next, continuing on for another three days before they started to come fewer and farther between. A week after the incident, Harry stopped texting and calling entirely.

Louis doesn't know if Harry drops by the flat because Liam doesn't tell him one way or the other. It hurts enough to think about him, let alone to say his name aloud, so Louis doesn't ask. All he does is count down the days til he leaves London, telling himself he's never going to look back.

"Remind me to thank Sophia for letting me steal you away for a few days," Louis says as he and Liam get off the tube at Heathrow and start heading towards the terminal.

"As long as you send me back to her," Liam jokes. "She won't be happy if this is your plan to force me to move to LA with you."

"The thought did cross my mind," Louis muses.

It's not until later, when they're sitting near the gate and waiting for the boarding to start, that Liam brings up the subject that Louis has been dreading. Liam's been texting for the last five minutes while Louis sits across from him and plays a game on his own phone. He doesn't spare a thought towards who Liam might be texting, not until Liam slips his phone into his pocket and sighs heavily.

Louis glances up at Liam and raises his eyebrow, waiting for him to say something.

"You alright, Payno?"

"Just… thinking."

"About?" Louis loses the level he'd been playing and gives up on trying it again, locking his phone and shoving it into his pocket so he can focus his attention solely on Liam. The look on Liam's face when he meets Louis' eye is despondent at best, and it makes Louis sad before he even opens his mouth.

"Are you really not going to tell him?" Liam asks.

Louis sighs heavily and hangs his head.

"No," he says quietly. "I'm not."

"Don't you think he deserves to know?" Liam asks, a slight hesitation in his voice.

"It's not his business," Louis replies.

"Isn't it?" Liam sighs. "You didn't, like, officially break up. Technically--"

"There's no "technically" anything, Liam." Louis huffs and crosses his arms. "He never told anyone we were together, not even when he was asked point-blank."

"Yeah, but--"

"But nothing! I'm giving him what he wants, Li. He doesn't want to have a boyfriend, voila!" Louis throws his hands up. "Now he doesn't have one."

Liam frowns at him but he nods regardless, slumping back against his seat.

"Okay, Lou. If you're sure."

"I am," Louis replies as he re-crosses his arms. "You'll see, Liam. He'll forget all about me."

"If you say so," Liam murmurs.


	7. Chapter Six

Four Months Later

_**you don't have to tell me** _

_**if you ever think of me** _

"I'm telling you, Liam, Sophia would love it out here."

"I know," Liam replies with a low chuckle. "That's why she's not coming along when I visit."

"What, afraid you won't get her back on the plane home?" Louis teases as he unlocks the gate leading into his apartment complex. He laughs as Liam tells him to shut up, and he pauses to check his mailbox.

"I haven't even said I'm coming so I don't know why you keep trying to get Sophia to come along too," Liam says as Louis takes a bundle of mail out of his mailbox, mentally cursing himself for forgetting to check for new mail over the last few days.

"Because I obviously like Sophia more than I like you," Louis replies cheekily.

"Thanks," Liam says flatly. "I should hang up on you."

"But you won't," Louis says, tucking the mail under his arm as he closes the box and locks it back up, turning around on his heel to head for his apartment.

It's far more lived-in than it was when Liam left, which mostly means that it's a complete mess. It doesn't bother Louis and he never has anyone over to his apartment, so it's not like he needs to clean it up in order to impress anyone.

He and Liam are still arguing about when Liam's coming to visit when he lets himself into his apartment and heads for the kitchen to rifle through the pile of mail he's picked up. Most of the pile is junk mail addressed to "resident" or whoever lived in Louis' apartment before he did, but there are a few things with Louis' name on them and he puts them all off to the side to peruse more thoroughly in a bit.

There's a plain envelope that catches Louis' eye. His name and address are handwritten, but there's no return address or any other markings anywhere on the envelope. The postmark is local, and for a moment he wonders if the Pearsons have sent him something instead of just handing it to him directly.

"Weird," he mutters.

"What's weird?" Liam asks.

"Just… a letter," Louis says as he turns the envelope over and tries to rip it open with his finger without giving himself a papercut. "Dunno who it's from."

"A mystery letter?" Liam hums. "Open it!"

"Yes, thank you, Liam." Louis huffs. "That's what I'm trying to…"

Louis trails off when the contents of the envelope spill out onto his kitchen counter and he realizes it's a ticket of some sort. He turns it over and as soon as he reads the name, it feels like his heart has stopped beating entirely.

It's a front row ticket to see _Harry_.

He drops the ticket like it's burned him and starts breathing heavily, only then realizing that Liam's calling his name.

"Louis? Are you still there?"

"Did you tell him?" he asks, still panting.

"Who? What're you talking--"

"Harry," Louis hisses. "Did you tell _Harry_ where I live?"

"No! Of course not, why would you--"

"Well someone fucking did!" Louis shouts.

"I didn't tell him, Louis," Liam says carefully. "I promised I wouldn't and I didn't."

"Then… how…" Louis sighs heavily. It's been weeks since he last thought about Harry.

"What was in the envelope, Lou?"

"A ticket," he says. He gives a hollow laugh and sniffs loudly. "A fucking front row ticket to his show here. It's next month, apparently."

"Yeah, he's…" Liam clears his throat. "He's been touring for a while. Been gone a few months, I think."

"You don't know?" Louis asks.

"Nah, we don't… we don't really talk that much. He's a bit angry with me, and--"

"What?" Louis interrupts. "What the fuck has he got to be angry about?"

"He's angry because I knew you were leaving and I didn't tell him. And he's even angrier that I wouldn't tell him where you went even after you left."

"He… he asked where I went?"

Liam sighs like he's becoming annoyed. "Of course he did, Lou. You left the fucking country without telling him, what'd you think was going to happen?"

"I didn't think he'd care!" Louis shouts. "He stopped texting, he stopped calling--"

"Because you refused to answer," Liam interrupts. "He was giving you space to calm down, he didn't expect that you'd just disappear on him."

"I didn't ask for _space_ ," Louis snaps.

"I'm not saying he did the right thing, but you definitely didn't either, y'know."

"Liam--"

"You ran, Lou. Yeah, Harry royally fucked up, but you literally ran away."

"He wanted space," Louis mutters angrily. "I gave him a whole ocean's worth of it."

"Lou." Liam sighs heavily again. "Maybe this is, like, his way of trying to apologize."

"I don't want him to apologize, I want…"

"What? What do you want, Lou?"

Louis bites his lip and takes a deep breath, slowly letting it out as he tries to come up with an answer.

"I don't know," he admits. "I don't know what I want, Li. I was doing fine, I was moving on, and now…"

"Now?" Liam prompts, and Louis huffs.

"I don't know whether to rip up the ticket or to fucking go."

"Well," Liam chuckles softly, "you've got a bit of time to figure it out, don't you?"

"S'pose I do."

*

The weeks pass by with a cloud hanging over Louis' head; a constant reminder of what's coming up, no matter how hard Louis tries to forget it. The ticket remains exactly where he dropped it on the counter, along with the rest of the mail he'd picked up that day. Louis refuses to look at it any time he goes into the kitchen, but it's all he can think about.

Liam doesn't ask about it when they text, and even though Louis is dying for Liam to make the decision for him, he doesn't bring it up either. He's not sure what he'd do even if Liam told him one way or the other.

When the day arrives, Louis still hasn't made up his mind. The ticket may as well be glowing, since Louis can't seem to keep his eyes off it now. He stands next to the counter with a mug of tea in his hands, staring down at it as if that's going to make any difference at all.

"Fuck it," he mumbles as he snatches the ticket off the countertop and grabs the envelope with the intent of shoving the ticket inside so at least it's out of sight.

But before he can do that, he realizes that there's something else in the envelope. His hands shake a little as he puts the ticket back down and reaches into the envelope, pulling out a small note that's folded in half.

_**I would've called, but I don't have your number. Hope to see you. x H** _

Louis' hands clench so fast that he crumples up both the note and the envelope before he even realizes what he's done. He tosses them both aside and snatches the ticket, putting it in his pocket before he heads for his front door.

He's not going to let Harry play the victim, not this time.

When Louis reaches the venue, there's an enormous crowd gathered outside. For some reason he hadn't expected so many people to be there. It's jarring to see Harry's name and face plastered everywhere, not only on the building but there are hundreds of fans wearing shirts with his face and carrying signs with his name on them.

 _What am I doing here_ crosses Louis' mind so many times in a matter of minutes that he nearly turns around and forgets the whole thing. He thinks back to the first time he saw Harry perform when they were in uni, and he can't quite believe how far he's come. Even thinking back to the night Liam dragged him to see Harry perform in a club, the night they got together, makes heart ache for more reasons than just one.

He takes the ticket out of his pocket and stares down at it. The thought of being front row absolutely terrifies him. He hasn't seen Harry in almost a year, how could he expect Louis to sit through an entire set with him so close but still so far?

Louis looks around, seeking out someone who's clearly there on their own. He spots a girl not too far from where he's standing and ventures over, trying not to scare her off as he approaches her. She looks up at him with wide eyes and a curious look, and he does his best to smile at her.

"Excited?" he asks. She nods, now looking at him warily. "Where's your seat?"

"On the side," she tells him. "Like, all the way up." She frowns a little. "It's not a great seat, but it's better than not having one."

"That's a good way to look at it."

"What about you?" Her eyes turn curious again. "Are you here to see Harry, too?"

Louis laughs a little. "You could say that." He taps his ticket against his fingers and clicks his tongue. "What d'you say to a trade? My ticket for yours."

"What?" She laughs nervously. "Seriously?"

"Yeah."

Her eyes narrow. "Where's your seat?"

"Front row," he says, turning his ticket around so she can see it. Her eyes immediately go wide and her mouth drops.

"No fucking way," she says, staring up at him in disbelief. "You can't, like, just give that to me."

"That's why I said a trade," he replies, smiling.

"But… that's _front row_!" she hisses. "You could get, like, hundreds of dollars for that."

"Probably," Louis says, shrugging. "But I'm offering it to you."

"It's not a fake ticket, is it?" She crosses her arms. "Because, like, if I take it and then I can't get in, I'm going to be really pissed off."

"It's real, I swear." Louis laughs a little. "If you don't want it…"

"No, I do!" she says quickly. "I just… can't believe it." She looks down at her own ticket and then back up at Louis. "Why don't you want it?"

Louis shrugs again and holds it out to her. "Just wanted to do something nice."

After swapping tickets, Louis heads to the end of the line and waits patiently to get in. It takes around half an hour for him to make it past the doors, and when he does he sees the girl he gave his ticket to standing just inside.

"Told you it wasn't fake," he says with a smile.

"Thanks," she replies, smiling widely back.

"Have fun," he tells her before he turns away, heading for his new seat far enough away from the stage that there's absolutely no way Harry will ever see him. If he's going to sit through Harry's whole show, there's nowhere else he'd rather spend it than as far away as possible.

He grabs a beer on the way, muttering under his breath about the price gouging as he hands over the money. He starts drinking it before he's even fully out of line, joining the wave of people all heading towards their respective seats.

There's a long line along the outer wall, and just as Louis starts to wonder what it's for, he sees the end of it congregates around a merchandise booth filled with all sorts of things with Harry's face. He walks past it as quickly as he can, taking a long draft from his beer and wishing that he hadn't been so stingy and had bought two instead.

The section he sits in isn't full, not like the ones below, but there's just as much excitement in the air amongst the people sitting there as there is in the rest of the venue. Louis drums his fingers against his thigh as he sits quietly, trying to sip the rest of his beer as opposed to finishing it in a couple of gulps.

He peers down at the floor in front of the stage, trying to pick out the girl he'd given his ticket to. It's much too far for him to be sure which one she is, but there's a sense of pride in his chest that swells larger and larger the longer he stares down at the front row. He feels safer up here, that's for sure. If he'd kept his front row ticket, there's no telling if he actually would've made it to the seat at all.

Louis closes his eyes and stupidly tries to imagine it for a moment: what it would've been like to be front row when Harry came out on stage. Whether he would've been able to stare Harry down, or if he'd have looked literally anywhere but Harry's face through the whole set. God, would he have even made it through the whole set, or would he have had to leave halfway through?

 _It's not supposed to hurt_ , he thinks to himself. _Not this much, not after all this time_.

He barely pays attention to the opening act; it's some band he's never heard of and doesn't particularly care to discover, anyway. All they mean to him is a way of distracting him before Harry comes on stage. He starts checking the time on his phone obsessively, the minutes passing slower and slower the more often he checks.

 _ **i don't know why i'm fucking here**_ , he texts Liam, even though it's way too late in London for him to be awake to answer. It doesn't stop him from sending more, though, if only to get his thoughts out of his head.

_**i traded my ticket to some girl i met outside and now i'm in the fucking nosebleeds and it's probably just as bad as being front fucking row.** _

**_i shouldn't have fucking come, i don't want to see him._ **

Louis sighs heavily, switching over to open a new text to Niall instead. They haven't talked nearly as often as he and Liam have, which Louis accepts most of the blame for. Niall was fairly upset when he found out that Louis moved without telling him.

_**were you the one who told harry where i was?** _

He doesn't expect Niall to answer him any more than he expected Liam to, which is why he's caught entirely off guard when his phone lights up with a call from Niall. He quickly declines it, panic taking over in place of common decency. As soon as he's done it, he regrets it.

Louis tucks his phone into his pocket, intending to ignore it for the remainder of the night. A few minutes later it buzzes, and Louis quickly loses the battle against his curiosity. He sucks in a sharp breath when he sees there's a voicemail from Niall, letting it out slowly as he holds his phone up to his ear to listen.

"Are you fuckin' serious? You don't even-- No, no, you know what? I'm glad you didn't fuckin' pick up, because now I can say exactly what I should've said months ago and you can't fuckin' interrupt me. Yeah, alright? It was me. I told Harry where you were because Liam said he _promised not to_ and I knew you sure as Hell weren't gonna ever do it, so I did it. D'you know why I did? Because I'm still fuckin' mad at you for leaving like you did!"

Louis winces.

"Like, _Jesus_ , Lou, I knew you and Harry ended on bad terms-- or, like, I knew Harry fucked up and shit, but what the fuck did I ever do to you?? Don't you think I deserved a phone call? Something other than Liam giving me your new phone number _after_ you'd already left?

"What did you expect, Louis? You can't hide forever. Sooner or later, you've got to realize that for yourself and take some responsibility. Stand up for yourself instead of running away. Make yourself happy, for fuck's sake. Surely you know how to do that, don't you?"

Niall hangs up, and Louis sighs heavily as he pulls the phone away from his ear. A notification pops up and this time, Louis doesn't hesitate.

_**i never took you for a coward, lou.** _

_**i'm not the coward**_ , he texts, glaring down at his phone, _**harry is. he's the one who denied we were together.**_

 _ **prove it**_ , Niall replies. _**be the bigger man and give him the chance to apologize.**_

Louis scoffs, intending to text back he doesn't have to give Harry a chance to do anything, but then Niall texts again.

_**you don't have to forgive him. but at least give him the fucking chance before you shut him out for good.** _

The lights throughout the arena suddenly go down and screams echo all through the air. Louis looks up as the stage lights come on, and he looks back down at his screen long enough to type out two letters.

_**ok** _

Louis tucks his phone away and turns his attention to the giant screen to the left of the stage, choosing to watch it instead of staring down at the stage. He loses his breath the moment Harry comes on screen, and the screaming gets even louder as he crosses the stage with a guitar in his hands, walking towards the microphone standing center stage. He smiles and waves at the crowd, his eyes darting around the arena until he reaches his destination.

The camera follows his every move, which means Louis sees the exact moment that Harry realizes he's not in the front row. The look on his face disappears just as quickly as it appeared, but it's forever burned into Louis' mind. The thrill he was looking for, the sense of satisfaction he expected from outsmarting Harry doesn't come. When Louis sees the look on Harry's face, his heart aches in a familiar way.

"Hello," Harry says, his deep voice booming through the arena as thousands of voices scream back at him. "Thank you for coming here tonight. My name is Harry."

Louis rolls his eyes, trying to tamp down the fond feeling that's growing inside his chest. He simply can't deny that he's missed the sound of Harry's voice.

The more Harry talks, the more endeared Louis gets. He rambles about Los Angeles, he interacts with the crowd, and all Louis can think is how he's absolutely made for this. It feels like Louis is back in the club with Liam, watching Harry from the bar. He recognizes some of the songs as ones he played that night, but they're few and far between.

About halfway through the set, Harry takes a step back from his microphone and has a word with one of the members of his band. It piques Louis' interest, mostly because it sort of looks like he's getting consoled. There's a lot of nodding and comforting shoulder patting, and Louis suddenly finds himself on his feet, his eyes darting back and forth between the giant screen and the actual stage. There's a desperate part of him that wishes he knew what was going through Harry's mind at that moment, but before long Harry turns back around and steps up to his microphone again.

He doesn't say a word before he starts playing the opening notes, a simple melody on the guitar that might as well have been an electric shock to Louis' system. He _knows_ those notes, he's heard this melody before. He's struck by the memory of Harry playing it for him, the two of them sitting on Louis' couch one lazy Sunday afternoon.

All he had was the melody and two words, but it was Louis' favorite song.

"Sweet creature," Harry sings. His eyes are closed but Louis' remain open, staring widely at Harry as he plays.

Louis listens carefully to the words, and the further along the song goes, the sadder he becomes. His chest aches with the weight of it all, and his eyes well up with tears, but he stays completely still and keeps listening.

It reminds him of how in love with Harry he was, and probably still is. He loved being a witness to the passion he had for music; Harry would call him his muse just to make Louis blush. He never truly took it seriously because he didn't think Harry actually needed him to come up with his songs, he just happened to be lucky enough to be around to hear them first.

It hurts to think how something he held so dearly disappeared so gradually. Days like that Sunday didn't happen as often as they used to until they stopped completely, and Louis was no longer the one that Harry came to with a new song idea. He hadn't realized how Harry had shut him out of that part of his life until it was too late.

"When I run out of road, you bring me home," Harry sings, and Louis' throat closes up. "You bring me home," Harry repeats, his voice trembling.

Louis stifles a sob, nearly choking with the force of it. Harry plays the final notes of the song and exhales a heavy breath into the microphone, finally opening his eyes and his eyes are bright with tears.

"I'm sorry, Lou."

That's the final straw. Louis can't take anymore, he needs to get out of here, and _fast_. He stumbles a little as he pushes past the other people in his row, rushing to get to the aisle as quickly as he can. His heart is beating so loudly in his ears that he can't hear what people mutter as he shoves them out of the way.

He doesn't feel like he can breathe properly until he's outside the arena, clutching his chest with one hand pressed to the wall.

 _I'm sorry, Lou_.

Louis gasps out another sob and curses, slapping his hand against the wall. He can't believe this happened, he can't believe Harry did it. Louis starts crying openly as he sinks down to his knees, burying his head in his hands as the words keep repeating themselves in his head.

Harry couldn't have known he was there. He must've known exactly where Louis' seat was supposed to be, he must've seen it taken by the girl Louis gave the ticket to. He didn't have to say that, but he _did_.

Louis simply can't handle it. He sniffs loudly, roughly wiping his tears away with his sleeve as he gets back up to his feet. He pulls his phone from his pocket and googles the nearest bar; he needs a bit of time to himself away from everything before he can go back home.

Once he starts walking, he opens his texts with Niall and types out a message with shaking fingers. It's probably a terrible idea to be doing this now, but Louis is far past the point of caring about anything like that anymore. Nothing's ever going to be the same, so why shouldn't he throw caution to the wind?

_**he apologized. now i don't ever have to see him again.** _

*

Louis is barely even tipsy by the time he makes it home later that night. He spent a good three hours at a bar but only ordered two drinks. He sipped each one slowly as he sat at the bar, staring off into the distance with a vacant look as his mind wandered from one end of the spectrum to the other.

How he felt when he left his apartment that afternoon was nothing compared to how he felt now. He was full of confusion, anger, hurt, and about a dozen other emotions that he didn't know how to handle all at once. All he'd wanted was a bit of closure, the reassurance that what he'd done was the right thing for everyone. Louis had truly believed that Harry hadn't wanted him in the way he said he did; Harry wasn't ready for everything that came with a serious relationship.

Louis can't find it in himself to be sure of it now. He isn't sure of anything anymore and it just makes his head hurt.

Even if Harry had changed, if he was now ready for a real relationship and everything that went with it, how could Louis ever be sure? Their lives are far too different for it to work, even with both of them on the same page.

 _It would never work_ , Louis told himself as he finished his second drink. He left the bartender a generous tip as he ordered an Uber home, intending to go to bed as soon as he got there.

He just keeps telling himself that tomorrow is another day. He's lived through the last nine months without Harry, one night isn't going to change any of them. Louis knows he can keep doing it, all he has to do is push through.

In theory, it's an easy feat. In practice, it's a bit more difficult. Especially when Louis finds one Harry Styles sitting on his doorstep. Louis glances around, blinking and rubbing his eyes to make sure he isn't hallucinating or something.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he asks, taking Harry by surprise. He looks up at Louis and a look of relief washes over his face, and that only makes Louis more suspicious. "How the fuck did you get _in_? There's a gate--"

"One of your neighbors," Harry explains. "I was waiting outside and she let me in."

"Figures," Louis mutters, stepping around Harry as he goes to unlock his door. He hears Harry stand up but he doesn't invite him inside once he opens the door. Louis is about to close the door in his face before he rethinks it and gestures for him to come inside.

Harry hesitates for a moment and Louis sighs in frustration.

"Are you fucking coming in or what?" he snaps. Harry quickly darts through the doorway and Louis shuts the door behind him, once again walking past him without even a glance in his direction.

He heads for the kitchen and fills a glass with water for himself. As he walks back into the living room, he notices that Harry's moved further into the room. He's looking at all of Louis' things as if Louis has given him permission to do so, and Louis finds a sick sense of pride in the way he jumps when he hears Louis clear his throat.

"Sorry," he mumbles, crossing the room as quickly as he can without running into or stepping on any of the rubbish on the floor. Louis doesn't apologize for the mess.

"Well?" Louis asks. He takes a long drink from his glass as he waits for Harry to speak. He has to be here for a reason, he wouldn't just show up out of the blue if he didn't have some motive behind it.

Harry just stares at him. He stares so long and so intently that Louis starts to feel uncomfortable in his own skin. He turns his gaze away, drinking more water and silently begging Harry to just fucking get on with it.

More minutes pass in silence, and finally Louis gets fed up.

"Are you going to say anything, or are you just going to keep staring at me?" he snaps.

"I…" Harry sighs heavily and runs a hand through his hair, already visibly frustrated. It only irritates Louis further.

"What, did you use up all of your conversational skills on your fans tonight?"

Harry's eyes snap back to Louis and it takes everything in Louis not to shrink back from his stare.

"You were there?" he asks, his face changing from frustration to a hopefulness that tugs at Louis' heartstrings. He's not going to let Harry get to him that easily.

"Yeah," he says in a defiant manner. He scoffs, looking away as he says, "like you didn't already know."

"I didn't," Harry says.

"Bullshit," Louis replies, scoffing again. "You sent me that ticket. You probably had someone watching the door or something, waiting to see if I came."

"I didn't know," Harry says pleadingly. "You weren't in your seat, Lou."

Louis shakes his head. He's not believing this act Harry's got going. The more he thought about it at the bar, the more it made sense. Harry wouldn't have said those things if he hadn't known Louis was there. He wouldn't have put himself out there without knowing he'd get something back. Louis has convinced himself that this is all part of some stunt that Harry cooked up to get Louis to forgive him, to win him back without actually changing at all or being sorry.

"You were supposed to be in your seat," Harry says, his voice quivering slightly as he speaks. "I had it all planned, you see? I was gonna…" he trails off and takes a deep breath. "But you weren't there. Why weren't you there?"

"You can't just send me a front row ticket and expect that to fix everything." Louis shakes his head, turning slightly away from Harry in order to put his glass down on a nearby table.

"I didn't! That's not why I sent it," Harry pleads.

"I don't believe you," Louis shoots back, turning back but not looking up at him.

"I just wanted to see you again!" Harry says, raising his voice. "I didn't know how else to do it."

Louis crosses his arms and blows out a harsh breath. His throat feels tighter than it did two minutes ago, but he's not going to let Harry get the best of him.

"I've missed you," Harry tells him, speaking quietly again. "I've missed you so much, Lou."

"Yeah, I'm sure you have," Louis says in a snide tone. "I'm sure you've had the worst time of your life, selling out arenas on a worldwide tour. Sounds absolutely terrible, I don't know how you've managed to--"

"Lou," Harry interrupts, "don't do that."

"Don't do what?"

"You know."

"No, I don't think I do." Louis scoffs. "What am I doing?"

"You're the one who left," Harry says.

Louis' blood boils.

"Don't you fucking--" He exhales angrily. "Don't you use that as an excuse. You tried that two fucking years ago; it didn't work then, it's not going to fucking work now!"

"No, that's not--" Harry groans in frustration, pressing his hands over his eyes as he breathes in and out. "I didn't mean it like that, Lou--"

"Stop calling me that," Louis snaps. "You don't get to call me that."

"Louis--"

"If that's not what you meant, then what the fuck did you mean?" Louis demands. "You said you were sorry, what were you apologizing for?" He goes on, content to needle Harry until he gives in. "Was that a lie? Were you just trying to get sympathy? Did you think--"

"I fucked up!" Harry shouts. "Okay? I fucked up! I was scared!"

"Scared?" Louis repeats. "You were _scared_?"

"Yes," Harry replies angrily. "I was fucking scared, alright?"

"Scared of what? Scared of me? Scared of being someone's boyfriend??" Louis shakes his head and balls his hands into fists. "You were the one who hounded me, who asked over and over and _over_ if we could be together--"

"I know," Harry says, but Louis doesn't stop.

"You said you wanted me, that you could be what I needed if I'd just give you a chance--"

"I know."

"I should've fucking known," Louis says. "You weren't ready, you were just pretending."

"I wasn't," Harry says, his voice low and determined. "I thought I was ready. I thought I loved you enough that I could make everything work."

Louis laughs, but Harry continues before he can say anything.

"I wanted to give you everything, I really did. I thought I could handle everything on my own, that I could have you and my career and it would all work out. But…" Harry starts to get visibly frustrated and his words start coming out more hysterical and nervous. "Everything just happened so fast and I didn't know what was happening, and then I was gone and you were home and I just… I panicked. I didn't know what to do!"

"You should've told me!" Louis shouts. "That's what people in relationships _do_ , Harry! They talk! They share their fucking feelings, their fears, their worries!" Louis shakes his head and Harry sniffs loudly, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. "But no, instead you fucking stopped talking to me."

Louis uncurls his fingers and takes a deep breath.

"I might've run away, but you're the one who left first."

"I didn't," Harry breathes out. "I didn't want to. I was scared, I didn't--"

"That's not a fucking excuse," Louis snaps. "Why didn't you tell me? Didn't you trust me?"

"Of course I did," Harry replies.

"Then why'd you stop answering my calls?" Louis asks, trying to stay strong even as his own voice starts to shake. "I'd text you and you wouldn't text back for days, if at all. I tried to tell myself that it was just because you were busy, not because you didn't want to fucking talk to me."

"I wanted to." Harry's voice breaks. "I wanted to talk to you all the time. I wanted to come home and never leave again."

"Don't. Don't say that," Louis says, shaking his head. "You don't mean it."

"Of course I do," Harry says. "Why would I say that if I didn't--"

"Because you're just trying to get me to forgive you!" Louis shouts. "You'll say anything, won't you?"

"That's not what I'm doing, Louis, and you know it!"

"Do I?? I don't fucking know you anymore, Harry. You keep saying that you were scared, that you didn't know what to do, but I don't fucking believe you! The Harry who left to go on tour and the one who came back are two completely different people."

"It's still me," Harry begs. "I'm still me, I've always been me."

"No," Louis says. "No, Harry, you're not. The Harry I know, the Harry I fell in love with--" Louis pauses after his voice cracks, steadying himself before he speaks again, "he wouldn't have done what you did. He wouldn't have ignored me. He wouldn't have left me alone at a club on our fucking anniversary."

"I'm sorry," Harry says, his voice thick as he cries. "I'm so sorry, I wish I could take it all back."

"You can't."

"But--"

"You _can't_ , Harry." Louis sniffs, blinking away his own tears.

"I know I can't take it back," Harry says. He takes a step forward and Louis watches him warily. "I know I messed everything up by not telling you how I felt and how scared I was, but I'm here now." He takes another step and Louis braces himself. "I'm here to tell you that I still love you."

"No," Louis whispers.

"I never stopped loving you, Lou."

Louis closes his eyes and swallows hard as Harry takes another step forward. He's so close now that Louis can smell his cologne, he can feel the heat radiating from Harry's body.

"No," he whispers again, "no, Harry."

"Please," Harry says as he slowly lifts his hand and brushes his fingers against Louis' cheek. "Let me fix what I broke."

"You can't," Louis says as he shies away from Harry's touch.

"Why not?"

Louis takes a deep breath. "What's to stop you from doing it again?"

"I won't."

"You don't know that."

Harry sighs softly as he tucks his hand under Louis' chin and gently turns his head until their eyes meet. Louis' chest grows tight as he looks at the tear tracks on Harry's cheeks and notices how his eyes still shine with tears.

"You're right," Harry says. "I don't know that."

"Harry--"

"But," Harry cups Louis' face with both of his hands to keep him from pulling away, "I've learned my lesson. I won't shut you out, I won't try and handle everything on my own, because it's pretty fucking obvious I'm terrible at it."

Louis chokes down a laugh. His body shakes as he keeps looking at Harry. Everything in him is screaming to run away, to shout at Harry to get out and never come back, but he just keeps staring.

"I need you, Louis. I miss you. I can't not have you in my life anymore, it's too hard."

"Whose fault is that?" Louis mutters quietly, not intending for Harry to hear it even though they're mere inches away from each other.

"It's mine," Harry replies. "Can't you see how much I love you? I said I was sorry in front of thousands of people tonight without even knowing if you were there. I just… I hoped that somehow, you'd hear it and come back to me."

"I don't..." Louis breathes out, shutting his eyes as he pulls himself free from Harry's hands.

"Please," Harry begs. "Please, give me another chance."

Louis braces himself against the wall and scrubs his hand across his face, breathing in and out slowly with his back to Harry.

"I don't know if I can," he admits.

Harry stays silent and Louis continues to face the wall. He doesn't know if he has the strength to turn around and see the look on Harry's face.

"Okay," Harry says, after a few minutes of complete silence. "I get it."

Louis takes a deep breath and presses his head against the wall. He still doesn't turn around.

"I'll…" Harry clears his throat. "I'll just… go. Goodbye, Lou."

Louis stays perfectly still. He listens as Harry opens the door and closes it behind him, and even after he's gone Louis still doesn't turn around.

After a minute or two, he sits down on the floor and puts his head in his hands. It feels like hours have passed since he found Harry waiting outside his apartment, and he's exhausted. He never expected tonight to turn out like this.

Louis lets out a deep breath and stares up at the ceiling, silently telling himself that he's done the right thing. Sending Harry away was best for the both of them. Seconds after, his bottom lip starts to tremble and without warning he starts crying, unable to stop.

When he closes his eyes, all he sees is Harry's tear-stained face and the look of impossible hope in his eyes as he stared back at Louis.

It almost seems like a dream. Louis keeps expecting to wake up in his bed, having come up with all of this in his head instead of living through it. Maybe, if he's lucky, he'll wake up back in London in his and Liam's flat. And if he's really lucky, Harry will be curled up next to him in bed.

The realization hits him hard enough that he gasps as though he's been punched in the stomach. Sending Harry away wasn't the right thing, not at all. How can it be when all Louis wants is to have Harry back?

He had his chance to get Harry back, and he threw it away.

Louis scrambles to get to his feet, nearly falling onto his face in his effort to get to the door as quickly as he can. He wrenches it open and runs through the doorway, not bothering to close it behind him before he runs out into the courtyard of his apartment complex.

His mind is racing, wondering how he's going to find Harry again, when he collides with something solid and falls to the ground. He groans and rolls onto his back, cradling his elbow and wincing as he turns to look at what he'd run into.

It's Harry.

"Lou--" Harry starts to say, but he stops when Louis throws his arms around him, hurt elbow be damned.

"I'm sorry," Louis sobs as he clings tightly to Harry. "Don't go, please."

"I'm here," Harry whispers back shakily as he wraps his arms around Louis tightly.

"I'm sorry," Louis says again. "I've been so angry for so long, I didn't… I couldn't…"

"I'm sorry," Harry replies as he tucks his head against Louis' shoulder. Louis feels it when Harry starts to cry, and he just holds him even tighter. "I'm so sorry, Lou."

"I love you," Louis tells him. He reaches up to cradle the back of Harry's head and presses his lips to the closest part of Harry that he can reach. "I love you so much."

"I love you," Harry says, lifting his head so they can kiss properly. They're in the middle of the courtyard on the ground, clinging to one another like the world is about to end, but all they can think about is each other.

Louis takes a deep breath as he pulls away, pressing his forehead against Harry's. After a few seconds, he pulls back and looks into Harry's eyes and smiles.

"God," he says as he swallows harshly. "I've missed you."

Harry laughs softly, leaning forward to press a kiss to Louis' nose and then another against his lips.

"I'm not going anywhere," Harry tells him. "Not without you."

Louis doesn't say anything; he doesn't point out that he's got a life here in LA, and Harry's got a tour to finish. It doesn't matter right now, not even one bit. The most important thing is that they've got each other. The rest will fall into place, one way or another.


	8. Epilogue

Three Months Later

_**i won't replace you** _

The night as a whole feels surreal. Most things do nowadays, and it's still undecided whether that's a good thing or a bad thing. It probably doesn't help that Harry's been distracted all night; he's constantly looking around for a face he knows he won't see. He has to keep himself from checking his phone every few minutes even though it hasn't buzzed once.

Louis isn't here, and that's okay, but it doesn't stop Harry from wishing he was. He can't stop missing him, even when they're only a few inches away from each other. It still hurts to think of all the time wasted, all the days that they lost because Harry couldn't keep up.

_**miss you** _

He knows he shouldn't be texting, not when there are cameras all around and all it takes is a fraction of a second for someone to see. He's supposed to be paying attention. This is a big night for him.

Less than a minute later his phone buzzes and he grins as he looks down at the message on his screen.

_**WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT TEXTING!!!** _

Harry forces himself to slip his phone back into his pocket and not type out a reply that highlights Louis' contradictory message. He can't help but grin in satisfaction; he _knew_ Louis wouldn't be able to resist.

His ears perk up when the next category is announced. It's weird to see himself up on the big screens on either side of the stage, even more so when it switches over from the music video to a camera focused on him now. He turns towards it with a smile, winking into the lens as he wonders if Louis is watching the live stream.

There's a telltale buzz in his pocket not ten seconds later, but Harry doesn't even move to adjust his phone. If Louis is watching then he's just texting to be difficult, and Harry's going to make him wait.

Thousands of voices erupt in cheers when his name is called as the winner: _And the Brit Award for British Single goes to_ _Harry Styles, Sweet Creature_. There's a pull in his chest when he turns to hug the person next to him; it should be Louis sitting there.

He pushes that thought out of his mind as he gets up from the table and heads for the podium to accept his award. It's an awkwardly long walk; he weaves his way between tables while trying to figure out the best route up to the stage without making a fool of himself. The presenter continues talking about him and his music all the while, which honestly makes the whole experience even more surreal.

He's just won a _Brit_. He honestly can't believe this is even happening.

Harry's hands shake as he accepts the award; his mouth goes dry and he can hardly squeeze out a thank you to the presenter before he steps up to the podium. He hadn't planned a speech. He didn't think he had a snowball's chance in hell of actually _winning_.

"Umm," is the first thing he says into the microphone. He chuckles awkwardly and glances down at the award for a moment before he looks out over the crowd and shrugs his shoulders. "I really don't know what to say. Thank you, I suppose, is a good start."

More cheers echo throughout the arena and Harry laughs again.

"I'm honored, truly, to receive this award. I didn't think I'd win, hence why my speech is utter rubbish. Who do I thank?" He shrugs again. "Erm, my mum? Thank you, Mum!"

The crowd laughs and Harry shakes his head.

"I suppose I should thank everyone who ever believed in me and helped me make the sort of record I wanted to make, which undoubtedly led me to tonight. I can't possibly list all of your names - though I do know them, believe me - but just know that I'm genuinely grateful for each and every one of you."

He pauses for a moment, biting his bottom lip as he taps his fingers against the award in his hands.

"There is someone, though, that I do need to name. Without this person, I never would've written this song. So," he holds the award high, "this is for you, Louis. My love, my everything, my Sweet Creature."

Harry manages to get about thirty seconds to himself backstage before he's thrust into post-win interviews, so he uses the time to check his phone. There are two texts from Louis waiting for him; one right after he won, and one sent not more than a minute after he stepped off the stage.

_**you're an idiot** _

**_i love you so fucking much_ **

Harry slips away from the cameras as soon as he's finished all the interviews he's supposed to do. He's been invited to half a dozen after parties, but he has no real interest in attending any of them. It's a relief when the car he ordered shows up and he can slide into the backseat without causing too much of a fuss. He tells the driver to take him home and closes his eyes, smiling to himself as the car drives away from the arena.

The street is blessedly empty when the car pulls up in front of Harry's building. He thanks the driver and gets out of the car, taking the steps up to the front door two at a time. Every move he makes seems to echo as he climbs the stairs; even the jingling of the keys in his hand seems to be extra loud.

It's dark in the entryway when Harry lets himself in, but he wasn't expecting anything less. He tosses his keys into the small dish on the table near the door before he shrugs his jacket off and leans down to pull the laces of his shoes undone. Once they're both off of his feet he picks them up off the floor and heads for his bedroom.

The flat is practically pitch black but there's a sliver of light coming from under his bedroom door. Harry gently pushes the door open and stands in the doorway with a smile on his face as there's a rustle inside the room and the bedside lamp switches on.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Louis demands, his voice coming out far less harsh than he probably means it to. The fact that it's hardly more than a whisper makes the question even more comical and Harry laughs in response.

"Wanted to come home," he tells Louis as he drops his shoes on the floor along with his suit jacket.

"No," Louis says angrily as he sits up in bed and tries in vain to clear his throat. "You're supposed to be at some after party--"

"Oh really?" Harry says, amused. He starts unbuttoning his shirt as he listens to Louis go on and on.

" _Yes,_ you're supposed to be schmoozing and making contacts or whatever--" Louis pauses to cough rather violently but continues with renewed vigor, "so that _next year_ , you can introduce me to all of those people and then--"

"You can meet David Beckham," Harry finishes dryly, rolling his eyes. "I told you, Lou, that's not really how this works."

"You don't know that," Louis replies, crossing his arms as Harry drops his shirt on the floor next to his jacket, following suit with his trousers and socks. "David Beckham could be at one of those parties right now! Wondering where you are and why you're not there to meet him!"

"Hmm." Harry, now just in his pants, crawls onto the bed and up towards Louis. "Think I'm doing something a little more important than meeting David Beckham."

"Harry--" Louis starts but he's interrupted by Harry pressing their mouths together, though it only lasts for a few seconds before Louis is pushing him away. "No, I'll get you sick."

"No, you won't," Harry says as he leans in again but Louis turns his head so Harry's lips touch his cheek instead.

"I don't want to get you sick," he grumbles, covering his mouth when he coughs. " _I_ don't want to be sick," he gripes.

Harry frowns and then starts kissing Louis' cheek over and over again to make him smile. He sneaks in another kiss to Louis' lips before getting pushed away a second time.

"You're only here for a few days," Harry says as he starts to pull the covers away from where Louis has them pulled up to his chin.

"Don't remind me," Louis says glumly. "I can't believe I got sick." He groans and tries to clear his throat. "It's ruined everything."

"Lou," Harry says, tugging on the covers a little harder. "C'mon."

"Stop it," Louis replies as he tries to slap Harry's hands away. It's as ineffectual as the glare in his eyes, both of which are undone by the wide smile he can't seem to hide.

"Lou," Harry repeats as he leans down and starts kissing Louis' neck, grinning against his skin when he manages to pull the covers down. Louis gasps a little when Harry's hand slips under his joggers.

"I see," he says a little breathlessly. "You came home to get laid, is that it?"

"Maybe," Harry murmurs, barely lifting his mouth from Louis' neck. "Missed you."

"Harry," Louis' voice cracks as he says it, and when Harry lifts his head he sees that Louis' eyes are closed and he's biting his lip.

"Lou," he says, nudging their noses together until Louis stops biting his lip and Harry can kiss him. Louis doesn't try and push him away this time but instead lets Harry kiss him as much as he wants.

Harry manages to pull Louis' joggers down until they're around his thighs while keeping Louis' mouth occupied. Louis inhales sharply and groans when Harry wraps a hand around his cock and strokes it once, twice, and then lets it go.

"Don't--" Louis pulls back to exhale with another groan. "Don't tease."

"Okay," Harry breathes out before shifting so he's hovering over Louis, stealing one last kiss from his lips before he slides down and takes Louis' cock in his mouth.

Louis curses loudly and his voice immediately cracks. Harry puts both hands on Louis' hips to hold him in place, humming in appreciation when Louis' hands tangle in his hair. He doesn't push or pull at Harry's head, he just tightens his grip around Harry's curls the further down Harry goes.

Harry digs his fingers into Louis' hips as he bobs his head, straining to keep his eyes on Louis' face. He's biting his lip again, desperately trying not to run his mouth like he usually does when they have sex. Harry knows if his throat wasn't sore already he'd be shouting about how good it was, and just the thought spurs him on even more.

He takes one hand off of Louis' hips and slips it under his arse, pressing his thumb against Louis' hole and rubbing the skin there. Louis keens and his hips jerk, thrusting his cock into Harry's mouth before he tries to grind down against Harry's thumb.

"Harry," he whimpers as his body shakes.

Not wanting to waste a moment, Harry keeps sucking and presses his thumb harder against Louis. He's close, he has to be with the way he can't stop writhing under Harry's touch. It takes another minute or two before Louis' hips buck hard and he comes in Harry's mouth with a muffled moan.

Harry pulls off and swallows hard, panting heavily as he lifts his head and wipes at his mouth. Louis looks half in a daze, flushed and sweaty and utterly boneless. Harry doesn't even try to hide the smirk on his face as he leans down and kisses his way up Louis' neck.

"Shit," Louis manages to say. His voice is shot and his movements are sluggish at best, but he still leans into Harry's touch.

"Glad I came home?" Harry teases softly. Louis tries to smack him but it's barely even a tap against his chest.

"Can't bel--" Louis coughs and groans, clearing his throat as Harry settles down next to him and wraps his arms around Louis' torso.

"My poor Lou," he hums as he starts rubbing Louis' chest. Louis grunts in a grumpy manner and heaves a deep breath.

"I watched, y'know," he murmurs. "The live stream."

"Oh?" Harry kisses his shoulder. "What'd you think?"

"It was probably good I was home sick," Louis says after a while. "Wouldn't have kept my hands off you, in that suit."

Harry hums happily and kisses his shoulder again. "Next time, promise."

"Only if you promise not to pull that sappy shit again," Louis replies.

"What?" Harry asks with a snicker. "I was just being honest about my inspiration."

"Embarrassing," Louis replies.

"Sincere."

"Ridiculous."

"Endearing?"

"No," Louis says, laughing. Harry grins and hugs him closer.

"Love you," Harry whispers. Louis puts his hand over Harry's on his chest and hums softly.

"Love you too."

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](http://imlouisaf.tumblr.com)


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